


Anywhere You Go I'll Follow

by MilkTeaMiku



Series: Gravity [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 100,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14978213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: Anywhere you go, I'll always be there with you.-Small ficlets for a variety of ships.





	1. Keith/Lance - Octopus

Keith wasn’t particularly fond of early mornings. He didn’t like to be rushed, or to feel like he’d forgotten something because he’d been too tired to focus properly at the time. He was usually pretty good at preparing for things the night before, but that still didn’t make waking up early any easier the following morning.

There were some perks to it, however. Some he liked to think outweighed the negative. 

Lance.

He did not like mornings at all. Lance was rather keen on getting his beauty sleep. He had an elaborate night time routine and he was the type of person who could sleep through almost everything once he’d managed to let his mind drift away. There was something cute about the way he softened when he slept, Keith thought. Even if Lance snored and let out little grunts and acted more like an octopus than a boy when he was asleep. 

That was one of the reasons Keith tolerated waking up early. It sounded a little creepy when he thought about it, but he really liked to watch Lance sleep. His boyfriend looked peaceful when he was fast asleep, his skin all soft and warm. A lot of the time there would be sunlight streaming in through their curtains and it would give Lance this amazing glow. His eyelashes always looked so long when Keith had the chance to stare freely at him like that.

Of course, sleepy Lance in the mornings was even better than asleep Lance.

Keith was rather delighted to find out that Lance was just as much an octopus when he was tired and still half asleep as he was when he was actually asleep. A lot of the time Keith was the first one awake, or at least the first one getting on with the morning. He’d already be showered and making coffee or breakfast when Lance would blearily stumble from their bedroom, sometimes still wrapped in a blanket from their bed.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he’d always mumble.

“I’m making breakfast,” Keith would reply. He’d hold still as Lance shuffled up behind him, fingers reaching for Keith’s hips. He had a habit of curving against Keith’s back, fitting himself in as close as he could, like he was going to try and go back to sleep. Sometimes he did try, and Keith could never find it in him not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping it in.

Lance was unusually quiet when he was sleepy. Sometimes he’d mumble small, unintelligible things into the back of Keith’s neck, or sigh as he nuzzled Keith’s hair, but that was about it. He seemed content to hug Keith from behind, stubbornly keeping Keith still for his own comfort – not that Keith complained in the least. It was nice to have Lance draped all over him like that. He was always warm, and pleasantly solid. He’d follow Keith around the kitchen like a lost puppy, flashing pleading blue eyes that begged for a few more minutes of rest. 

“You’ll have to wake up eventually,” Keith would often remind him. Lance also had an extensive morning routine, and he liked to take his time getting ready. While somehow miraculously never running late, it did take him a while, and it was better to get started as soon as possible.

Lance would only ever grumble in reply, tightening his grip on Keith like he thought Keith was going to shake him off. “Give me five more minutes…”

Keith always did, because how could he not, when Lance was so cute?

In winter, during the coldest mornings, sometimes Lance would gravitate towards the heater in the lounge room instead. Keith would always be able to hear him shuffling about, a hand on the wall for balance. He’d stand in the kitchen doorway and watch Lance paw at the heater’s on-switch before sinking down in front of it like he was in a trance. The heat always seemed to wake him up a little faster than usual – he didn’t like the cold, and preferred summer to winter. His cheeks would flush from the warmth and when he was awake enough, he notice Keith watching him, and send him a wide, careless grin that always had Keith feeling a tad warmer, too.

He supposed that being with someone like Lance made him appreciate all those little things. He sometimes found himself watching Lance, trying to memorise all the things he did so that he could appreciate them later. Like how Lance always handed him a hot mug with the handle first, so that he wouldn’t burn his hands. And how Lance always paired his socks for him straight off the line, so he didn’t have to go digging through their washing pile for them. And how Lance always put aside freshly washed knives so that Keith wouldn’t accidentally cut himself when he put all the dishes away.

There wasn’t anyone in the world who treated him like Lance did. Who made him feel things like Lance did. 

That’s why Lance was so important to him. He made Keith want to feel in love, made Keith feel loved. He hadn’t really had an interest in romantic relationships before he met Lance. It hadn’t been an instant love sort of thing, either. 

If he were being honest, he hadn’t really liked Lance at first; he’d been loud and obnoxious, and way too into other people’s businesses. He’d like to make every single thing into a competition and got huffy if he lost, even when Keith insisted he wasn’t participating. He’d popped up at every turn after they’d met, and half the time it was completely coincidental, like if they ran into each other at the grocery store. It had been so infuriating, but it had made Keith really look at him, look past what was on the surface (though he had slowly come to realise just how pretty said surface was).

Now Keith wouldn’t have him any other way.


	2. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Hint

Lance was on the verge of falling asleep. It was getting late, and his interest in the movie they were watching was starting to wane. The whole group had gotten together to binge on pizza and marathon a bunch of new movies all afternoon. Shiro’s apartment was big enough for everyone to find a place to crash for the night, so they’d all gathered around with a mountain of snacks at the ready, keen on relaxing for an evening.

It had been a while since they’d done this. Their little friend-pack felt like a family to Lance, and he enjoyed the time they spent together. Especially when Keith and Shiro were around. Lance was definitely interested in them, but he couldn’t tell if they returned those feelings. He’d tried to drop hints – getting close physically, trying to let his scent show his interest, flirting – but it never seemed to get the results he wanted.

“It’s like they don’t notice me at all,” he’d complained to Pidge, when he’d been hanging out with the young beta. “Sometimes I feel like they’re responding, but they ever do anything about it.”

“That’s because they’re dumb,” Pidge had deadpanned, thoroughly unamused. “Literally everyone else can tell you want to court them. They’re both blind.”

Lance had flushed at that. He couldn’t read either one of the alphas as well as he wanted to. It wasn’t unusual for people to form triads, and while Keith and Shiro weren’t together, he could tell that they were compatible. As alphas, they didn’t often become competitive around one another, and never postured or snapped. Their close bond was something that first drew Lance to them – he’d had a crush on Shiro for ages, and while his relationship with Keith had started out more like a rivalry, he liked to think they were close now.

As the movie continued to play, Lance continued to nod off. He was too sleepy to go to bed, and was falling asleep against the arm of the couch. When he felt eyes on him, he glanced up, blinking sleepily at Shiro.

Preoccupied by the movie, no one else noticed when Shiro stood up and went over to Lance, crouching beside the couch. “You want to go to bed?” he whispered.

Lance nodded. “Yeah.”

Shiro gave him a gentle smile. “Alright.” Slipping his arms under Lance’s legs, he lifts him from the couch, completely at ease despite Lance’s weight. Lance let out a small surprised chirp, one arm going around Shiro’s shoulders as he shrunk into Shiro’s chest. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Shiro was strong enough to lift him as if he weighed nothing more than a feather, but he was.

Over Shiro’s shoulder, he saw Pidge give him an eye roll, and it made him flush. Pidge elbowed Keith in the side, but she didn’t need to – Keith was already watching them. “I’m just going to…” Keith made a few useless gestures with his hands before jumping up to hurry after Shiro. When Pidge only rolled her eyes again, Lance couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Shiro carried him to the bedroom. He seemed to hesitate a moment by the door to the spare bedroom, but he took Lance to his bedroom in the end. Lance pressed his cheek against Shiro’s shoulder, happy with his choice.

The bed was big enough for three, Lance thought, as Shiro laid him down in it. He stretched out on the sheets, burying his nose in Shiro’s pillow, where his scent was the strongest. A content purr built up in his throat. 

Almost hesitantly, someone sat on the edge of the bed. A hand touched his back, warm and gentle, and his purring grew louder. 

“I might go to bed too,” Keith whispered.

“You can stay in here if you want,” Shiro offered. “I’ll just go check that everyone’s alright, and then I’ll probably go to bed too.”

“In here?”

“Yeah… that okay?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro’s pleased scent swelled in the room. “Alright.”

Lance hid a smile in the pillow. He heard Shiro leave, and felt Keith slip into bed behind him, close enough that Lance could smell his scent. 

Maybe they’d finally gotten the hint.


	3. Allura/Lance/Shiro - Drop

Lance knew that walking around at night wasn’t a good idea. He known that before he left work, and yet he’d still done it. His boss – an awful man who lived entirely just to make his employees’ lives difficult – had kept him back to clear the storage room. He normally left work while it was still daytime outside, but it was thoroughly dark out now, and he had to walk five blocks to the train station parking lot, because the manager refused to let the employees park behind the shop. His co-workers usually walked with him, but that wasn’t the case tonight. 

He really regretted not asking someone to stay back to walk with him.

It wasn’t like he was looking for danger. Realistically, he knew that unmated omegas like him were often the targets of attacks because they were seen as weaker or submissive. That wasn’t always the case, but it was an ingrained prejudice that modern omega-rights had yet to shift or change. Drunk or abusive alphas were a threat, especially at night, and especially when he was walking alone in a shady part of town. 

In the end it hadn’t mattered how inconspicuous he tried to make himself. A group of alphas and betas reeking of alcohol cornered him on a dark street, where only a sparse number of streetlights were working. They’d probably come from one of the bars a few streets over, because this street was mostly little boutiques and cafes, what he’d thought to be a safer option. 

Invasive fingers prodded at him, touching his cheek, his neck, his back. He shied away, flinching, feeling trapped. The scent of alcohol and foreign alpha hit him like a physical blow. God, Lance had been taught what to do in situations like this, how to help himself, but it all left him. He was completely frozen as hands dragged him deeper and deeper into the shadows.

“Pretty omegas like you shouldn’t be walking around alone,” one leered.

“Just asking for attention,” another agreed. 

“Let go of me!” Lance snapped, trying to pull his arms free. His bag was sliding off his shoulder and he let out a small shriek when he felt meaty hands go up the back of his shirt. He threw an elbow back, felt the puff of air the winded alpha released over the back of his neck. The motion freed him for a few seconds, and he stumbled forwards, only to be backhanded hard across the face.

“Omega bitch!” A pissed snarl left one of the alphas, who grabbed him by the hair and threw him to the ground. Lance let out a pained cry as he hit the concrete, scrambling back towards the alley wall. His scent was souring, making one of the betas lean away, but the others were so intoxicated that they hardly seemed to notice.

Lance could feel himself spiralling. Omegas, especially ones not on suppressants, could drop into a dazed state, an instinctual form of self-defence that dislocated the mind from the body. It was a coping mechanism, a way of escaping whatever trauma the body was experiencing, whether it was emotional, hormonal, or physical. Lance had only dropped once, right after his third or fourth heat, when the pain had been worse than usual because of new medication he’d tried. He’d had his family to watch over and take care of him then. 

He didn’t have that now.

Suddenly, a voice at the mouth of the alleyway started him. “What’s going on here?”

Lance shrunk into himself. A pressure was building up in his head and it hurt. The side of his face was throbbing. 

The man appeared in front of him, standing between him and his attackers. He was big, taller than even the tallest alpha harassing Lance, and impossibly broad in the shoulders. He spat words at the alphas, but Lance was too frazzled to understand them. 

After a moment of confrontation, the drunk group scattered. The man was muttering under his breath as he crouched down in front of Lance. “Are you alright?”

Lance cowered. He couldn’t help it.

A soft, comforting scent washed over him. “It’s alright,” the man – an omega, Lance was surprised to realise – soothed. “Can you look at me?”

Slowly, Lance lifted his eyes. The omega gave him an encouraging smile. His hair was a shock of thick white, and his eyes were a warm brown. Something about his gentle expression eased Lance’s frantic heartbeat. 

“Good, perfect,” he said. “I’m going to touch your face, okay? Just lightly. You have a nasty bruise forming.”

Lance tried not to flinch as the man ran his fingertips over his jaw. 

“Doesn’t seem like anything is broken.” The man retracted his hand and glanced over his shoulder for a moment. “My name is Shiro. I own a store just down the street. How about we get out of the cold? Can you stand?”

At Lance’s stiff silence, Shiro slowly crept forwards, making his movements exaggerated and cautious as he looped his arm under Lance’s legs. Lance had never felt so weightless. Shiro’s scent was overflowing with protectiveness, something that smelt addicting and overwhelming. He pressed against the omega’s chest in a weak attempt to comfort himself. The omega’s resulting rumble helped.

The shop he was taken to was full of pretty things. Candles in decorative jars lined one wall; terrariums and books lined the other. Lance spied little glass baubles collected on one table, next to journals and pretty pens. He’d walked past this store dozens of times, he realised. He’d always wanted to go in and have a look but he’d never found the time to do so.

A female alpha appeared in the doorway to what Lance assumed was the backroom. She had a cloud of silver hair and unnaturally perceptive blue eyes, and while he thought her scent was pleasing, the sight of an alpha made him whimper. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Shiro whispered. “She’s my mate.”

“What happened?” the alpha asked. Her eyes lingered on Lance’s cheek, and something akin to anger flashed across her face. 

“He was cornered in the alleyway,” Shiro explained, giving his alpha a worried look. “He’s on the verge of dropping.” 

The alpha winced. She stepped aside as Shiro carried Lance into the back area, where couches and a low table marked what was probably the break room. He set Lance down on a couch, but Lance panicked when he tried to move away, whining pitifully. Shiro rumbled again, soft and reassuring. 

“Let me have a look at that bruise,” the alpha said, as she came to hover beside the couch. She met Lance’s eyes and waited for his permission before touching her fingertips to his chin. She was exuding a comforting scent, one that appealed to Lance’s instincts quite a lot. He let her tilt his head to the side, observing the bruise. “I’ll get some ice, alright?”

“Alright,” he croaked.

She flashed him a brief smile before heading to the small kitchenette adjacent to the break room. Shiro stayed with him, holding Lance close. Being around another omega that acted so protective of him was calming him down almost as fast as being with a family member. 

“Feeling better?” Shiro asked.

Lance nodded. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“No need to thank me.” Shiro rubbed Lance’s arm and offered him a small, crooked smile. “I know how scary it can be to drop like that.”

It was strange to think a man with such a typical alpha physique was an omega. If Lance wasn’t so hyper-focused on Shiro’s scent, he might have forgotten he was an omega altogether. But Shiro was an omega, and that meant he knew what it was like to drop, how overcome an omega had to be to get to that point.

“What’s your name?” Shiro asked. He nodded his head in the direction of the kitchenette. “That’s Allura.”

“Lance,” he said. 

“How are you feeling, Lance?” Shiro gave him an observant look, subtly scenting Lance’s hair. “Not going to drop again?”

Lance shook his head. “No… no, I feel okay. Stable.” Being around Shiro and Allura was calming him. They both smelled incredibly protective, and their gentle handling of him was soothing. 

Allura returned with an icepack wrapped in a tea towel. She sat on the arm of the couch and held it to Lance’s cheek, careful not to apply too much pressure. “Not too cold?”

“No.” 

“Good.” She reached for his hand and positioned it so that he could hold the icepack. “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“My parents…”

After fishing his phone from his pocket, Lance gave the phone to Shiro, who stepped away to call his parents for him. Allura took his spot, putting her arm around Lance’s shoulders before he could miss the weight of Shiro against him. She held his hand and, incredulously, he felt himself flush a little.

“Sorry for the trouble…”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Allura said, voice firm. “You shouldn’t apologise for being hurt.”

Lance nodded a little. He felt sort of… ashamed, like he should have been able to protect himself better. He was an adult, not a frightened teenager, and he was normally so outgoing, so loud and energetic. “I just froze,” he said, eyes downcast.

“None of that now,” Allura chastised, using a knuckle to tilt Lance’s chin back up. “You’re safe here, you’re not going to be hurt. This wasn’t your fault, and neither Shiro nor I are being troubled by this at all.”

He offered her a weak smile. Her reassurances felt so honest and raw, it made his worries dissipate. “Thank you for helping me.”

Shiro returned, and handed Lance his phone back. “Your mother is on her way, she said she’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Are you alright with waiting with us? I can make tea.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Lance sat on the couch in between the alpha and omega while they waited for his mother to arrive. Shiro did make tea, and passed the cup into Lance’s hands when it was cool enough to hold. Without panic driving him, he was thoroughly exhausted. Every time his head dropped onto either one of their shoulders he was flushed with embarrassment, but neither seemed to care.

He thought that maybe his fast connection with them was because they’d helped him, but something deep in his gut told him it was more than that. No mated pair would treat another so kindly, so affectionately, not even in his situation. It was like they were caring for a member of their mateship. 

That was something for him to think about when he wasn’t so tired.

All that mattered than was that he was safe with them.


	4. Lance/Shiro - Tell

No one knew they were dating. It hadn’t ever really been a secret, per say – it was more like they were dating without realising they were dating. Hanging out all the time, getting coffee together, walking through the park; they did all the cheesy things coupes did without realising it.

Lance did had a crush on Shiro, though. He’d felt enamoured with the man for years, even if those feelings had turned from admiration to affection in the last few years. He’d never really had any reason to think Shiro would ever return his feelings, so he’d never done anything about them, or thought on them as more than a fleeting, passing thing.

They were dating now, though. One evening Shiro drank one wine glass too many and tipsily spilled all his feelings for Lance. He’d been rather mortified in the morning, but Lance had been charmed, and they’d been properly together ever since. They already spent so much time together, so it wasn’t like much changed between them, anyway. Only there was more kissing. A lot more kissing.

Point was, no one else knew. None of their friends, anyway. Allura was understandably busy with running her father’s business, and Hunk was trying to juggle his engineering degree and culinary classes. Pidge was working on some major project with Matt, who’d been discharged from the Garrison the same time as Shiro a few years ago, and who had arrived back in town only recently after finishing a tech job. Keith was off doing… Keith things.

Lance almost forgot that none of their friends knew they were dating. He and Shiro both stayed in town while the others were busy. Lance wanted to be close to his family, and a lot of his degree could be done online and at the local marine wildlife centre. Shiro stayed because he needed the rest, and he’d found a decent job at a local animal rescue. They’d bonded over their mutual fondness for animals and the fact that they both missed their busy friends.

For the record, Shiro seemed to forget, too. Lance supposed they were just so used to being around one another that it was second nature now.

It was Allura that first found out, not because they wanted to tell her, but because they’d mot told anyone in the first place. She came over to visit Shiro, where Lance more time than. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed that she found it, but it certainly was embarrassing.

He’d gotten up to get something asking, “Anything you need, babe?” as he did so. 

Allura perked up at the nickname, surprised and their secret was revealed, though Lance still insisted it wasn’t a secret. They’d have to figure out a better way of sharing their news with their friends, but Lance didn’t mind that the ‘secret’ was out. He was proud of Shiro in every sense of the world, and loved being with him.

Why would he mind if everyone else knew that?


	5. Lance/Shiro - Mornings

Shiro liked to spoil Lance. In any way he could, he showered his wonderful husband in all the love and affection he could ever want. There was something deeply satisfying about making Lance happy, a feeling that was unique to that situation. He’d wondered if the joy he felt from making Lance smile would ever wear off, but it hadn’t. 

That morning, he made breakfast in bed. This was a common occurrence, and it went both ways, though Shiro was usually the first one awake, especially on weekdays. He wasn’t a very good cook but Lance had painstakingly taught him how to make pancakes, and they were a perfect breakfast. Lance liked his with Nutella and sliced strawberries, or lemon juice and sugar, so Shiro brought him a whole range of toppings to pick and choose from. 

He found Lance exactly where he left him. He was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, having shifted over when Shiro left. One arm was spread across the sheets, the other was tucked under his head. His face was squished into Shiro’s pillow. There was probably no one else in the world who could pull off bed hair like Lance did; his brown locks were sticking up in every direction, pushed away from his forehead. 

Just like usual, Shiro thought he was beautiful.

Even if he was drooling.

Setting aside the tray of pancakes on the bedside table, Shiro sat on the edge of the bed, and ran his fingers through Lance’s soft hair. It took a few moments, but eventually Lance stirred, sleepily lifted his head. “Shiro…?”

“Good morning,” Shiro said, smiling. Lance reached for his hand, running his fingertips over the golden band Shiro wore on his finger. It made Shiro smile even more. “I made breakfast.”

Lance flushed and sat upright, eyes eagerly taking in the pancakes. “They look so good!”

“I tried really hard on them this time!” Shiro laughed. He had a habit of burning food, and the pancakes he made usually came out a little too much on the crispy side. Once he’d even majorly undercooked them, though he wasn’t sure how that had happened. Lance had still eaten them, and proclaimed them delicious, even though they definitely could have been much better.

But Lance was the type of person who’d do that to make a person feel better about themselves. He was always boosting Shiro’s confidence, always giving him honest compliments with no provocation whatsoever. Shiro’s husband was the type of person who just loved people, loved being around others, and Shiro was quite a bit in love with him for it. Lance made him feel whole in a way that no one else had ever managed.

(Especially not after his accident, the one that he’d lost his arm in. Lance had only ever known him as the man after the accident, and he didn’t treat Shiro as any… _less_ of a person because of his amputation. It was hard to explain, but Shiro felt complete with Lance. Like he’d never been anyone other than who he was then and there. That suited him just fine.)

After setting the tray across Lance’s lap, Shiro climbed back into bed beside him, tucking the sheets over his legs. This was one of his favourite pars of their mornings together. Waking up was easy when he knew he had Lance’s cheerfulness to look forwards to. 

Cheerfulness that increased with the slightly-burnt pancakes offered to him, just because Shiro made them for him. That’s probably why Shiro loved spoiling Lance.

He deserved all the love in the world.


	6. Keith/Lance - Excited

Lance thought he would get used to the feeling of his baby moving around in him. It was a slight fluttering, at first, like he had butterflies, or maybe a nervous twitch. The first few times it had happened had been hard to distinguish from other jerks or flutters in his belly, which often came when he was hungry or sick.

The kicks of his baby, however, soon became easily recognisable to him.

For some reason, it was one of the only things in the world that could wake him up in seconds. As the swell of his stomach grew larger and larger, he found it easiest to sleep on his side or back, and it was like he could feel the restlessness of his baby more when he was like that. 

That was what had woken him that morning, too. These days, he could sleep well into the day, too exhausted to do much else. Being almost eight months pregnant would do that to an omega. Sometimes he spent entire days in bed, doing little other than resting. The closer he got to his due date, the less he found he could do, and that was sometimes a little exasperating, because he liked being active. 

But he did enjoy feeling his baby kick. His child was just as active as Lance liked to be, often moving around in the middle of the night, refusing to let Lance sleep. Lance was sure his baby was going to be up and running around as soon as they could. He could already imagine them running after a ball, or toddling after Keith, or chasing butterflies in the garden. These were secret things he thought about, little pleasures he couldn’t wait to witness one day.

For now, he settled for feeling kicks. Sitting upright, he ran a hand over the swell of his stomach, patiently waiting until he felt pressure against his palm. “Good morning, baby.”

Keith was nowhere to be seen. Lance felt his side of the bed, but the sheets were cold. A cursory sniff of the air revealed that his mate’s scent was still heavy and close – he was still home. Though Lance doubted Keith would leave without at least informing Lance of where he was going. He was very protective of Lance, and of their baby. 

Sometimes Lance was still surprised by how fiercely Keith loved their child. He was an omega too, so it wasn’t really surprising that he was overwhelmed by such intense instincts, but he generally wasn’t affected by them. He didn’t experience heats as strongly as Lance did, and wasn’t a very big nester. To see him act so omega where the baby was concerned was both surprising and delightful. 

Pushing the sheets off his legs, Lance slowly got to his feet. That was something that had become more difficult this month, but he managed alright. He wrapped his favourite blue dressing gown around himself and padded down the stairs, careful to take them slowly.

He found Keith sitting in the lounge room, the television turned down low enough not to bother Lance while he was sleeping. He had a book in hand, and one cheek rested on a curled fist. 

“Good morning,” Lance said, smiling at the content picture Keith made. 

Keith glanced up, closing his book. “Morning. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

Keith stood and made his way over to Lance, hands immediately clasping his hips. His eyes lingered on Lance’s stomach, like he could tell how Lance and the baby were doing just by staring. “I’ll make breakfast,” he said, distracted.

Lance tried not to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. Keith was always so steadfast and single-minded when it came to caring for them, and Lance thought it was adorable. He waddled after his mate as Keith went into the kitchen. Normally, Lance was the one who cooked, but Keith had taken to learning some things here and there. 

“I want to be able to make our baby nice meals,” he’d mumbled one evening, when Lance had asked about it. “Family meals, that sort of thing.”

Lance put up with Keith’s not-so-good attempts because he’d never heard of anything so heart-warming in his life. To know that Keith was thinking of the future they’d share with their child, of how he could make his child enjoy eating, how they could bond as a family… Well, there were no words to explain how it made Lance feel.

“Did you sleep alright last night?” Keith asked, as started to slice a handful of Lance’s favourite fruits.

“Sort of,” Lance said, rubbing his stomach again. “Baby wanted to do gymnastics in the early hours of the morning.”

“Is that what I felt?”

“Quite possibly.” Lance grinned, and admired the small smile that curled up the corner of Keith’s lips. Unable to himself, Lance shuffled over to his mate, eager to press a kiss to that secret little smile. He nuzzled against the scent glands on Keith’s neck and basked in the sweet way his mate smelled. Lance had always loved the scents of omegas, but Keith’s was on a different level altogether. Lance had never smelt anything so alluring.

Keith perked a brow up at him. “Alright?”

“Perfect,” Lance purred, curving as much of himself against Keith’s back as he could manage with his stomach in the way. His baby gave a rather powerful kick, and when Keith jolted a little, his grin broadened. “See? Told you baby could tell when you were near.”

Keith flushed, the tips of his ears going red. That was something Lance had mentioned many times, though Keith always denied it. Lance knew he secretly loved knowing their baby could sense him. As an omega, he had the ability to conceive as well, but he’d chosen not to. It was something he was very nervous about, and Lance wasn’t sure Keith would ever want to carry a baby. It didn’t both him, of course, because he was more than happy to carry their children. 

“Go sit, I’ll bring breakfast over when it’s done,” Keith said, shooing him off in the direction of their dining table. Lance laughed quietly, but complied. He’d only been standing for ten minutes and already his feet were starting to hurt.

Sitting down, his hands once again returned to his stomach. It wouldn’t be long before they’d get to meet their little one. As much as he was scared and nervous, he was also incredibly excited. 

He knew he’d always have Keith to support him and that was all that mattered.


	7. Keith/Lance - Found

Lance had been hiding in an abandoned church for almost a week now. It should have been ironic – a vampire in a church, trying to stay safe. He was sure that if there was a higher power out there somewhere, they were definitely getting a major kick out of his situation. It wasn’t fair on any level but when did vampires like him ever have it easy, anyway?

He hadn’t even been born a vampire, and that was the worst part of it all. He’d been forced into this situation the previous year, when he’d been attacked and drained by a starving criminal. For a while he’d been able to hide it, been able to live a decently normal life (with a little more blood than before). A lot of places were becoming accepting of supernatural creatures, and Lance’s town was one of them. He could get his food from a discreet little shop and go on his way.

But a lot of hunters, especially those from old, traditional families, rejected the assimilation of the supernatural into everyday society. It was a personal offense to them. They went against everyone – supernaturals, the government, even their fellow, more forgiving hunters – in order to establish what they thought was the natural order of life.

Meaning, no supernaturals.

They’d come to Lance’s town with the intention of running out all the supernaturals peacefully living there. After destroying the little shop where many supernaturals got their diet-specific foods, the one Lance also frequented, many people were forced to leave. This was typical hunter tactics. Remove the food source, and the ‘predators’ have to find it elsewhere.

It didn’t drive everyone out. Lance’s rival-turned-friend-turned-crush, Keith, was a werewolf, and he didn’t leave. Neither did Lance. Their friends had helped them lay low for a while, but being a vampire without a steady source of food was difficult. Lance knew he would never hurt anyone, not even if he was starving, but it put him on edge to be without food.

Unfortunately for him, the hunters were good at their jobs. The instant they realised Lance was weakened, the chase began. Lance had barely been able to send a text message to his friends and family before he’d had to flee, taking the first bus to the next town.

That’s how he ended up in the church. It was the only place without cameras. Discreet and dry, it was the best place he could find to hide where he didn’t think humans would stray. He could feel hunger stirring in his stomach, like a strong sense of nausea. It made his throat burn.

Hours passed while Lance stayed huddled up on one of the old pews. Sleep pulled at his mind but he didn’t want to let it take over. He’d be too vulnerable if he slept. He was still young in vampire years, still a fledgling, so he still needed to eat human food and sleep almost like a regular human. But he did have the heightened senses, and the craving for blood that would lead to starvation and death if not quenched.

He wasn’t sure how long passed before he heard someone approaching. It sent him into a panic, and he scrambled off the pew to crouch on the ground behind it, heart hammering against his ribcage. He strained his hearing, trying to determine how many people there were, but he could only hear… one set of footsteps? When he took a careful sniff of the air, a familiar scent reached his nose.

The wooden doors to the church were pushed open with a small groan. A silhouette stretched along the aisle, aided by the glow of the moon. It was still quite late outside.

Lance peered over the top of the pew, eyes weary. “Keith…? That you?”

“Lance?” Keith stepped further into the church, and let the doors shut behind him. The sudden darkness was no strain to either of their eyes. “Are you okay?”

Sagging against the pew, Lance couldn’t stop himself from letting out a painfully relieved moan. “I thought you were a hunter! Don’t do that to me, man.”

“Sorry.” Keith came to join him, setting down a backpack by Lance’s head. “I hope you don’t mind but I raided your closet to get your scent.”

Lance flushed. The idea of Keith going through his things was both embarrassing and a little bit arousing, if only because it meant Keith had probably been sniffing all his clothes too, and he didn’t look all that cut up about it. There was a part of him feeling very strange about the fact that Keith had been into his room and seen parts of his personal life, but it was a good strange.

“I brought you some of your stuff,” Keith continued, as he unzipped the bag to reveal its contents. Lance sat himself back down on the pew and peered into the bag – a small selection of his own clean clothes stared back at him. “Also brought food.”

As much as Lance wanted to change his clothes and feel clean again, the mention of food made the ache in his stomach perk up. Eyes flashing, he glanced at Keith, going still. For some reason, he couldn’t help but remember all the times when he’d thought that Keith’s blood would probably taste good. Werewolves were meant to smell bad to vampires, but that definitely wasn’t the case with Keith. Every time Lance got a whiff of him he wanted to get a taste, too. It was maddening, especially when he was hungry.

Keith watched him with a strange intensity, before rifling through the bag again. He pulled out a thermos. “Here. It’s probably not the best stuff, and it’s not warm, but it’s all I could find.”

Lance accepted the thermos without thinking. He could already feel his small fangs pressing out of his gums, aching to sink into flesh. He’d never fed from a person and he didn’t really have any intentions to, but the instinct was there. He tried not to make a mess as he unscrewed the cap of the thermos and spent a moment completely draining it.

The blood was cold, but it immediately sated the burning in his throat. He whimpered when he realised the thermos was empty, wanting more. This would keep him tied over for a few more hours, at least. And it had stopped the ache in his head from spreading. “Thank you,” he croaked, when he finally started to feel more like himself again.

“It’s fine.”

Lance glanced at Keith out of the corner of his eye. “You came after me.”

Keith shifted, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “It’s not like I was going to let you go through this alone. Besides, I was the only one who’d be able to find you quick enough.” He tapped the side of his nose.

That was true, but Lance knew it was more than that. He could smell the very faint threads of embarrassment in Keith’s scent, and see how blood was rising in his cheeks. “I’m glad you found me,” he said honestly.

Keith gave him a hesitant smile in return. “I’m glad I found you, too.”


	8. Keith/Lance - Valley

“Don’t be out late,” his mother warned, as she fluffed her wings at him. She didn’t like it when he went out at night, but she didn’t want to curb his desire to explore either. “And don’t fly near the cliffs, okay? It’s getting stormy out there.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Lance assured with a grin. He burrowed into her waiting arms, and made the standard groan of annoyance when she wrapped her wings around him, suffocating him in her feathers. “Got to go now, Ma.”

She sighed. “Just be careful.”

“I always am.”

Stretching out his wings, Lance left his mother in the doorway and took off into the sky. The wind was cold against his cheeks but he was dressed for the weather, so it didn’t bother him much.

The valley stretched out before him. Nestled between sharp cliffs bordering the ocean and a ridge of high, snowy mountains, the valley was a stretch of white-capped trees and frozen rivers. Lance liked to take trips over the cliffs, though he wasn’t stupid enough to land on them, instead choosing to glide as close to the ocean’s edge as he could get.

That was not where he was heading today, though. Instead he rose far above the treetops and flew past the main village, marked by a massive clearing in the trees. Buildings and tall spires rose among the leaves, competing for space forty metres up in the air with the highest branches. The trees in the valley were impossibly wide and impossibly thick, so much so that the founding colonies had built homes from stone rather than try and cut the trees down for wood.

It took more than twenty minutes to fly over the town, but he pushed onwards. The wind was in his favour, lifting his feathers, guiding him forwards with only half as much energy required of him as usual. Even if it was cold, it got him where he wanted to be faster.

Past a cluster of exceptionally thick trees, the base of the mountain began to slope upwards. The trees towards the mountain’s peak were thinner and spread apart, tapering off into nothing but rock and weed when the altitude meant the air was too cold for large plant life. Lance had no intention of going that high today, but it was the view he had as he turned around the mountain’s slope, looking for a specific outcropping of rock.

And eventually, the hidden cave beneath it.

He’d found the place by accident one day. He couldn’t quite remember what he’d been doing out here in the first place, but he was probably just exploring. He did a lot of that as a kid to get away from the noise of his admittedly large family. He loved his siblings and all his cousins, he did, but there was only so much a boy could take.

He expected the cave to have an occupant when he folded his wings down and landed. It was pretty shallow for a cave, but its entrance was wide, stretched open like a mouth cared in the crock. The ground was worn smooth from the elements, and leaf debris always washed in, but the place was pretty decent for a secret hideaway. Protected from the wind, rarely used by wild animals, and completely unknown to any other person in the whole colony.

Well, except for one other person.

Lance felt the rush of air before he heard the sound of feathers. A wind brushed over him once, then twice, before a heavy weight slouched over his back. He let out a winded breath of air as dark-feathered wings circled him, urging him further into the cave. 

“You’re late,” Lance said, as Keith’s hands squeezed his hips. He could feel Keith’s breath on the back of his neck, followed by a hard, lingering kiss. “You alright?”

“Better now,” Keith mumbled against his skin.

Lance stroked Keith’s hands gently. He fluffed his wings out, brown feathers urging Keith off of him, though Keith didn’t go far. Lance grabbed him by the hand and pulled him deeper into the cave, further away from the cold. They sat against one of the walls, where the stone was more forgiving and blankets they’d previously stored there gave them somewhere soft to rest.

Keith was always a little tense when they first met up. Sometimes Lance knew why, but other times the reason was beyond him. They’d started seeing each other a few months ago, and it had quickly become something serious, even if no one else knew about it. The secrecy was a part of the reason why Lance liked their relationship so much – not because he wanted to hide it, but because he felt like he had the privacy to explore his feelings as carefully as he needed to.

Settled with his back to the wall, Keith himself made the perfect cushion. Lance laid between his legs, twisted slightly to the side to make room for his wings, with his cheek resting on Keith’s shoulder. Keith’s wings were bigger than his, feathers thicker, and they made the perfect curtain to shield them both from the rest of the world. Cocooned in Keith’s wings, he felt like everything else faded away. 

A lot of the time, they did nothing more than relax when they were out together. They talked, or brought a deck of cards, or food to snack on. It was a chance for them to forget about every worry bothering them outside of the cave, to just get to know one another, to spend time together. It was the perfect remedy to other anxieties, like when Lance needed quiet from his family, or when Keith needed physical touch to ground him.

They were surprisingly good at helping one another, he thought. Anyone who knew them both wouldn’t think so.

Lance absentmindedly ran his fingers through Keith’s feathers, over and over. Eventually Keith softened, and Lance smiled. 

He liked taking care of Keith.


	9. Allura/Lance/Shiro - Recharging

In hindsight, leaving them on their own was probably not a good decision.

Allura could sense when her partners were up to mischief. For the most part, Shiro was the responsible and caring alpha that she’d first fallen in love with, but Lance had a way of making him do mischievous things that had nothing to do with Shiro’s lack of willpower and everything to do with Lance’s pretty eyes and pouting lips.

(Shiro was a weak, weak man when it came to their omega.)

To be fair, it wasn’t like she expected them to abstain from drinking. She’d asked them to come to this dinner so she wouldn’t be alone, but she’d hardly had any time to spend with them. They didn’t really know anyone here, besides Allura’s father, so they’d been left to their own devices for most of the evening. 

After speaking with all the people who required her attention, Allura found her father, and pulled him aside. Neither one of them particularly enjoyed these social functions, but they were important for the business, and the dinner provided by the company was always high quality. 

“Tired already?” Alfor teased, as he snagged two champagne glasses from a passing server. 

“A little,” she admitted, taking one of the glasses. “You haven’t seen Shiro or Lance lately, have you? I left them by the refreshments table, but…”

Alfor gave her a teasing smile. “Well, it’s not as though they know anyone here,” he said, amused. “Even I would have indulged a little…”

Allura sighed, though she was amused, too. Her mates didn’t normally drink, but they did have a glass or two during social events. Shiro would drink beers at barbecues and Lance likes to make fruity cocktails for birthday dinners. She didn’t think she’d ever seen either one of them truly drunk. Tipsy, yes. She could easily handle tipsy mates.

“We’re probably going to head off soon… once I find them, anyway,” she said. “It’s getting late.”

“Of course,” Alfor agreed. He occupied her time for a little while longer, and they spoke of light topics, straying from anything to do with the company. It was nice to spend time with her father, Allura thought. Even if it was at a business event. 

When they parted ways, Allura set aside her half-empty champagne glass, and started to wander around the conference hall. It was a beautiful room, with a high ceiling and marbled floor. Her heels clacked when she walked, but the sound was mostly drowned out by the humming chatter coming from all the mingling guests. Many would not leave the venue for another few hours, but she had her mates to think of. And she wanted to go home, too.

Heels hurt after a while.

She found her alpha and her omega sitting close together on a small lounge. There was a seating area in each corner of the room, protected mostly from view in an alcove with the help of floor-length curtains, though they were currently pinned open. They’d found themselves a comfortable lounge and had their heads bent together, talking and giggling in a way that made her want to roll her eyes.

“There you are,” she said, propping her hip against the wall as she peered in at them. “Having fun?”

Shiro snapped upright, his cheeks faintly flushed. He tried to school his features into something calm but that droopy, happy smile he always got when he was tipsy still twitched at the corner of his lips. “Lots of fun,” he said.

“Uh huh.” Allura walked closer. Lance’s cheeks were red too, and he was trying hard – and failing – not to give her a cheerful smile. “You haven’t been drinking too much, have you, my loves?”

“Oh no, definitely not,” Shiro was quick to say, shaking his head. He had Lance tucked against his side, one arm around Lance’s middle, and it looked like he was trying valiantly to help Lance stay upright. “We definitely only had one.”

“Yes, just one,” Lance said, voice serious. Allura perked a brow at him and he dissolved into a fit of laughter. 

“Maybe more than one,” she teased. Leaning against the couch, she put her fingers under Lance’s chin, and tilted his head towards her. She lowered her voice and asked, “You wouldn’t lie to your loving alpha, would you?”

His beautiful blue eyes widened. “No, no,” he said. “Maybe more than one. Shiro let me.”

She lifted her gaze to Shiro’s.

He squirmed, cheeks flushing darker. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “But one turned into two and then…” He rolled his hand.

Allura laughed. “It’s alright, I didn’t expect you to sit around all evening without a little entertainment,” she said. She let her gaze slide to Lance, slow and predator-like. “You didn’t have too much fun without me, did you?”

“Never!” he vowed, fingers playing with the hem of her long dress, reluctant to wrinkle the silvery fabric. “Can’t have fun without both of my alphas.”

Shiro laughed at that, and buried his nose in the back of Lance’s neck. Allura watched them fondly. She could clearly tell that both of her mates were at least a little bit tipsy, but it had made them smiley and affectionate, and she liked them that way. 

“Shall we head on home?” she suggested. 

“Okay,” Lance agreed. He unwound Shiro’s arm from his waist and stood up, but wobbled. “Oh. I think I shouldn’t have had that last glass.”

Allura stood and reached for his hands, letting him sag against her. She took a delicate sniff of his neck, breathing in his sweet, omega scent. He smelt warm and happy and like Shiro, and that delighted her. 

“I’ll wrinkle your dress,” he mumbled, though he made no move to shift away.

“It’s just a dress,” she said, patting his back. “Will you be alright to walk?”

“Yeah, just give me a moment,” he said, nuzzling against her collarbones. “I’m recharging.”

Allura laughed quietly. 

Shiro stood too, placing a warm hand on Lance’s back, making him purr. He watched their omega for a moment, before leaning over him to press a sweet kiss to Allura’s lips. She accepted it with a smile, breathing in the scent of her alpha. When he straightened, she gave him a questioning look, but he just smiled sheepishly and said, “Recharging.”

Allura ran her fingers through Lance’s hair, letting herself relax in the company of her mates. There was nowhere else she wanted to be but with them. They meant everything to her and she would be sure to show them that.


	10. Keith/Lance - Purify

The morning was unexpectedly quiet when it arrived. Lance woke to the sound of the bells in the tower being rung, a high and sweet sound that travelled right across the expansive grounds of the inn. He waited a few moments, sleepily blinking at the ceiling, until the sounds of the other employees stirring reached him.

Pulling himself from bed, he bathed, and dressed for the day. All of the workers at the inn gathered for a communal breakfast in the great hall, and he didn’t want to be late. He needed lots of energy to get through a decent day’s work.

The inn featured a variety of specialised treatments. It was a place for all sorts of people and spirits to rest, to relax, and to heal. All of the workers, like Lance, were unique to the spirit world. The master of the inn – a mysterious figure that those who had been brought to the inn to work could only describe as a giant lion – had the unique ability of transforming mortal, human souls into half-spirits. It meant that they could live on in the spirit world as physical beings, each with minor spiritual abilities.

Lance had died at a fairly young age in the human world, and for some reason, the lion had thought he deserved a place in the spirit world. He, like the other half-spirits, was free to do whatever he wished, but he’d chosen to stay at the inn. Most of them did. It was safe for their kind, and familiar. The lion provided them with care and protection that was unlike anything else in the entire spirit realm.

That morning, after breakfast, Lance headed out into the expansive gardens. He could control water to a minor extent, and purify it when it became dirty, so he looked after the ponds and rivers at the inn. There were many koi fish and small water-spirits that liked to live in the water, so he made sure to keep it clean for them.

He’d only reached the first stream when a messenger came from the main building, calling for him. “Lance!”

“What is it?” He lifted his hands from the stream and shook them free of water. 

“A new resident has arrived that needs your assistance,” the messenger said.

Lance raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Mine?” It wasn’t often that residents at the inn needed his help. Sometimes he’d help the kitchen staff to purify water, or he’d help in the baths when they needed an extra set of hands, but his tasks were usually all in the garden. Working directly with residents wasn’t something he often did.

“The resident seems to be afraid of water, but they really need to get it clean,” the messenger said, a worried furrow dipping their brow. “It’s been injured, and they can’t treat the found without cleaning it first… and you’re really gentle with water.”

Lance blinked, and let out a small sound. “Alright, if the healers are sure…”

“They are!” the messenger reassured him. 

Following the messenger back to the main building, Lance couldn’t help but wonder what sort of resident they had. He’d seen all sorts of spirits come to the inn, and quite a few of them were injured, looking for someone to be healed. The inn was the perfect place, he thought. It was calm and quiet, and there were a variety of half-spirits with suitable abilities. Even someone like Lance could be put to use, it seemed.

The larger baths were located in the western wing of the main building. It was still early in the morning, so the building was relatively quiet. Only employees moved about.

Wide doors that ran the length of the entire corridor wall were pushed open when Lance arrived at the baths. He left the messenger there and entered, rolling up the long sleeves of his uniform. One of the bath attendants met him and hurried him into one of the bathing rooms, where a wide, square-shaped bath sent deep into the ground was being filled by a large stream of warm water.

Through the attendants trying to fill the bath, Lance could see the resident.

It was a large wolf. Its dark fur was matted along its side, stained and crusted with drying blood. For the time being it was hunched in the bath, but anytime someone neared it, it bared its fangs and growled. 

“It won’t bite me, will it?” he asked, snagging the elbow of a half-spirit rushing past him.

“Not if you’re gentle,” the spirit said, though they seemed unsure.

Lance bit his lip. “Maybe it would be better if everyone left the room, it’s kind of crowded in here.”

When the room was empty, Lance crept closer to the bath. The wolf was rumbling, low and deep, its violet eyes trained on Lance. He lowered himself to his knees and dipped his hand into the water. It was warm, but had become dirty from the wolf’s fur, so he purified it. The liquid glowed blue for a moment before returning to normal.

“You can’t just sit there,” he told the wolf, as he stood again, and rounded the bath’s edge to be closer to it. “Let me help you, okay? It won’t hurt, promise.”

The wolf bared its teeth, growling louder, but Lance persisted despite the way his heart jumped. He held out a palm above the water and waited for it to lift free of the bath and condense in his hand.

“See? Just a little,” he said. He slowly approached the wolf’s side, trying not to be intimidated by the way it swung its head around to watch him. “I’m just going to wash your fur. You need to be clean so the healers can fix you.”

Luckily for him, the wolf didn’t seem to find his gentle ministrations painful. He wasn’t able to control large amounts of water, so maybe his ability was good for this job. Over and over he lifted water from the bath to let it carefully run over the wound. He could see the wolf’s muscles flinching beneath its fur, but it didn’t go to bite him. Instead it just watched, eyes sharp.

He hadn’t seen a spirit like this before. The wolf was at least three times his size, and it barely fit in the bath, but it still wasn’t like the other spirits that visited the inn. Aside from its size and the indigo colour of its eyes, it looked like something that might come from the mortal world. Maybe it was a half-spirit like him.

It took a while, but eventually the water started to run clean. Lance had to keep one hand in the bath to continually purify it, and by the time he was done, he was sweating and exhausted. 

But the wolf seemed less aggravated. It had stopped growling, and its muscles were more relaxed. Lance put a hand on its wet side and gave it a gentle pat. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

A small whine left the wolf. It shifted in the bath, sloshing water everywhere, and pressed its big head against him. Lance let out a small yelp as he almost fell over. 

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, putting his arms around the wolf’s head. He stroked a hand down its muzzle, flattening its wet fur. “You’ll let the healers work on you now, right? They’ll fix you right up.”

The wolf only whined again.

Lance felt oddly reluctant to leave it. The bath caretakers returned when he called for them, and the wolf put up no fuss when they started to clean it. Lance cast it one last glance before returning to his tasks for the day.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the wolf all day. There was something very vulnerable about the way it had looked at him, about the way it had trusted him. He wanted to see it again.

That’s probably why he wasn’t too upset when he was interrupted that evening. He was finishing up for the day out in the gardens, seated beside one of the smaller ponds. A school of koi fish eagerly swam around the hand he had dipped in the pond, content to be in pure water. Out of nowhere, a heavy weight jumped on him from behind, almost throwing him in.

“Lance!” a startled voice called out from far behind him.

Lance was too focused on the weight draped across his shoulders. It was a boy who looked no older than him, and he was wearing one of the resident robes that everyone vising the inn was given. He had dark hair and a pair of triangular wolf ears poking out from the top of his head, and Lance could feel a heavy tail sweeping against the back of his legs. If that wasn’t enough to tell him that this was the wolf, then the violent eyes boring into the side of his face would have been.

“Feeling better, are we?” he teased, lifting a hand to rub the wolf’s ears.

The wolf grumbled something, and nuzzled his face against Lance’s neck, breathing in deeply.

“Jeez, he can run fast,” one of the healers said as she reached them, panting. “I’m sorry, Lance. He got away so fast…”

“It’s alright, really,” he said, offering her a small smile. “I helped him in the bath earlier, he probably just wanted to see a familiar face.”

The healer matched his smile. “Looks like he has a real attachment to you,” she said. “He hasn’t really told us much, but we think he’s a half-spirit like us.”

“I thought so before, too.”

“Think you can keep him entertained for a while? I’m afraid he doesn’t really like any of us in the healing rooms.”

Lance laughed a little. “You’re not causing too much trouble, are you?” he asked the wolf, who peeked open an eye at him. “They’re just trying to help, you know.”

The wolf shook his head, and pressed harder against Lance’s back. “Want to stay with you,” he mumbled, voice rough from misuse. He nudged his nose against Lance’s neck, breathing in again. “Smells nice…”

Lance snorted, amused and embarrassed. “Uh huh, sure I do, wolf boy. Well, if you don’t mind following me around while I finish, you can stay.”

“Alright,” he said.

The healer gave him a satisfied look, and left them be after instructing Lance about where to lead the wolf for his healing appointments. He still had one more to go before the healers were certain his injury wouldn’t reopen or cause any future problems. 

“You already know my name,” Lance said, as he gave the wolf a little poke to the side. “How about telling me yours?”

“Keith.”

Lance grinned. “Nice to meet you, Keith.”


	11. Lance/Shiro - Arrangement

Lance held himself perfectly still as Allura brushed paint onto his face. It was a very simple design, one that followed the lines of his Altean markings, extended them into something pretty and delicate. She tilted his head to the side with her fingertips to finish the line she was drawing.

“There,” she said, as she lifted the brush-tip away, “all done. Don’t touch it before it’s dry.”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

Allura tiled his head up again, giving him a hopeful smile. “Don’t look like that, you’ll break our hearts.”

“I’ve never even met him, Allura,” he said, voice thick with worry and insecurity. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he doesn’t…?”

Truth be told, Lance had been worried about this for weeks. As the second child of Altea’s beloved royal family, he’d been put into an arranged marriage with a man from the rebel Galra Empire. The Galra had been split into two sides for decades, and while one was aggressive and full of animosity, the rebel Empire had been fostering decent relations with Altea for more than twenty years. 

To solidify their relations for good, a marriage had been proposed.

Lance’s parents would have never agreed to it if he hadn’t given them permission. As a Prince of Altea, Lance knew that this was his duty. Allura, as the first born, would one day inherent the throne of Altea, so she would be unable to leave the country for marriage purposes. But Lance could, and if it would benefit Altea, then he was willing to do so. He felt a great sense of responsibility for his people, something he was sure he learned from Allura.

But he was nervous, despite his confidence.

He worried that his soon-to-be-husband wouldn’t like him. He had a bit of a loud personality, and he sometimes said things without really thinking about them. Not to mention his worries that his betrothed wouldn’t find him attractive. He knew it was possible.

When it came down to it, he only knew a little about his fiancé. The man was from the Galra’s royal guard, and he had a good reputation. He was strong and reliable, and Allura – who had met him a few times – assured Lance that he was kind and gentle. Handsome too, she’d told him with a reassuring wink. 

Lance wasn’t sure what to expect. It only made him more and more nervous as the hours ticked down until the wedding. 

Fortunately for him, the first time he’d meet his fiancé wouldn’t be at the end of the aisle. Neither his parents nor the Galra organising the arrangement on behalf of his fiancé wanted them to be extremely nervous when the wedding took place. Instead they’d meet a few hours beforehand, get to know one another’s faces. 

That’s what Lance was waiting for now. Allura packed away the paints and took a seat beside him, folding one hand over his under the table.

“Don’t worry too much,” she said. “He’s a good man, and he’ll do well by you.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone,” he whispered.

“And you won’t,” she reassured him, voice firm. “You’re amazing, Lance, and if he doesn’t realise that then I’ll have to ask him to get his eyes checked.”

Lance laughed at that, feeling the tension in him ease a little. He’d asked for Allura to stay with him for the meeting, and she’d gladly agreed. She had an air of confidence and dependability to her that had always calmed him.

When the Galra delegation finally arrived, he felt like he was going to pass out.

The man that walked through the door was… not what he expected.

In a good way, though.

He was tall. Very tall, Lance thought. His shoulders were broad, and he was very clearly muscled, something that probably came from training as a soldier. There was a scar across the bridge of his nose, and one of his arms was a prosthetic, starting from just below the shoulder joint. When he came close enough, Lance could see that his eyes were a warm brown colour. They stood out against the shock of white hair he had.

Lance could see why Allura had said he was handsome.

Flustered, Lance stood up so quickly his chair scraped back. Allura stood too, though in a much calmer way, her eyes alight with amusement as Lance’s face became redder and redder. 

“Shiro, this is my brother, Prince Lance,” she said, as she gestured between them. “Lance, this is Takashi Shirogane, from the Galra Empire.”

Shiro gave him a small smile, and reached out to take Lance’s hand. He bent at the waist and lifted Lance’s knuckles to his lips, giving them a small kiss before peering at Lance from beneath his lashes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Prince.”

“Y-you too,” Lance said, embarrassed. His hand was warm where Shiro held it. 

“Why don’t you speak for a moment?” Allura suggested, as she gave Lance’s shoulder a comforting pat. “I’m going to speak with Shiro’s advisor.”

He watched her go with nervous eyes before returning his gaze to Shiro. In all of his worried thoughts, he hadn’t imagined how he’d feel if he was faced with someone so beautiful. Was he really allowed to marry someone like Shiro?

“I hope I don’t make you feel too nervous,” Shiro said, as he straightened. “Though I have to admit I’m very nervous myself.”

“You are?” Lance asked, surprised. “Why?”

A faint flush came to Shiro’s cheeks. “Well, it’s not every day you’re going to marry a beautiful Prince, is it?”

“Beautiful?”

Shiro flushed darker.

Lance couldn’t help but grin bashfully, squeezing Shiro’s hand. “I’m nervous too,” he said.

Shiro smiled to himself a little. “And why would you be nervous, my Prince?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone,” Lance admitted. It was the same thing he’d told Allura. “Not my people, not the Galra… not you.”

“You are the furthest thing from a disappointment,” Shiro said, almost without thinking. His smile took on a shy edge. “If we’re being honest, I was worried I… wouldn’t live up to your standards, or be good enough. I sincerely hope I can make you happy, my Prince.”

Lance was charmed. Shiro radiated an honesty that was rare in people. He could see why his parents and Allura had approved of the match. For a moment, he was confused as to why someone as handsome and as kind as Shiro would think he wouldn’t be good enough, but it made sense after a moment. Some people would perceive him as unfit to marry into royalty because of his scars and his arm. But that didn’t matter to Lance. 

“Do you want to marry me?” he asked, looking up at Shiro directly. “I mean, marrying into the royal family might be difficult. You might have to stay in Altea for long periods of time, and deal with extensive meetings, and attend a lot of galas where people will judge your every move. Are you really okay with that?”

“Of course,” Shiro said without hesitation. “I’m not going to say it will be easy, and a part of my decision comes from a sense of duty to my country, but… I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, my Prince. About what you do for your people, and your positivity, and your energy. I’d be honoured to marry you – both you, Prince of Altea, and just Lance.”

Lance smiled. He lifted Shiro’s prosthetic hand to his face, pressed his cheek to Shiro’s palm. “That’s more that I could have ever hoped for in a blind arrangement,” he said. “I want to make you happy, too.”

Shiro grinned, shy again. “Then, my Prince, shall we get married?”


	12. Keith/Lance - Needy

There were several things that indicated Keith was going into a rut. Lance had come to recognise them easily, and knew when to be on the lookout for the signs. It was something he’d been nervous about, when he’d first started dating the werewolf. As it turned out, Keith’s ruts weren’t something he couldn’t handle. They only happened twice a year, and were never more than a few days long at the most. 

Besides, he kind of liked Keith’s ruts. 

A lot.

Their bond was much closer after they’d gone through the first one together. Sharing a rut was something very intimate for wolves, and it had taken a few cycles before Keith asked Lance to share it with him. As a fey, Lance was more than capable of sustaining Keith for that long. His affinity was for water, so as long as he stayed extra hydrated, he didn’t lose stamina as fast as a non-fey might. He liked the closeness he felt when he spent a rut with Keith, especially the time they spent recuperating together afterwards.

Keith would never admit it, but he was quite cuddly. 

When Lance woke up that morning to find Keith gripping him just a little too tight, he knew Keith’s rut was coming. He couldn’t smell it like werewolves could, but he’d found his own ways to spot it, since Keith’s cycles were sporadic. 

Rolling over to face Keith, Lance let his eyes rove over his mate, taking in as much as he could. Keith had a habit of kicking the sheets off at night, and Lance didn’t mind too much because Keith was pretty much his own furnace, so he didn’t get particularly cold if Keith was in bed with him. It did give him a good view of Keith come morning.

Lifting a hand, Lance traced his fingertips over Keith’s nose and under his jaw. “Wake up.”

It took a moment, but Keith eventually stirred, eyes flashing for a moment before he realised that it was just Lance that had woken him. He let out a deep rumble and pressed their foreheads together, detaching one hand from Lance’s hip to instead cup his face. “Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Good morning.” This was one of Lance’s favourite parts of the day, when Keith was drowsy and sleep-muddled, still soft and warm in the way people got when they’d slept well. “How are you feeling?”

Keith frowned a little. “Warm.”

Humming, Lance rubbed their noses together. “Thought you might.”

Sometimes Keith didn’t realise that his rut was approaching. It could hit him out of nowhere, and he wasn’t interested in trying to track it. Lance was more than happy to do that for him, considering he had an outsider’s perspective. 

For the most part, their days continued as normal, despite Keith’s impending rut. It wasn’t like the rut would make Keith’s inhibitions go out of the window – he wouldn’t become mindless with aggression, and certainly didn’t lose his morals or restraint. There were changes, but Lance could navigate them well. 

One of the ways Keith was changed by his rut was in his protectiveness over Lance. It was an instinctual thing, a way for him to claim what he perceived as his mate and his territory. Of course, Keith didn’t treat Lance like he was an object, or anything like that. A lot of people had misconceptions about werewolves when it came to their more instinctual moments. But Keith was always gentle with Lance, always sure to check his boundaries, even when he became all growly and possessive.

See, Keith’s ruts tended to reduce him to a needy mess. He wanted all of Lance’s attention to himself, somehow without even realising so. He’d follow Lance around like a lost puppy, whining for his attention, obsessively scenting him whenever Lance stood still. He’d growl if anyone got too close to Lance for his liking, though it was more of a jerk reaction than an actual threat.

Lance thought his neediness was cute. He liked the feeling of being needed, and liked knowing that he could soothe Keith’s instincts. He himself was quite affectionate, and more than ready to shower Keith in all the attention he could want. It was in his nature to be quite sentimental and unreserved with his affections, which was perfect when Keith was going into rut.

He knew that now that Keith’s cycle was starting, he’d have to watch out for the signs that Keith was in need of some reassurance and grounding – the cuddling and scenting was Keith’s way of establishing his place in the relationship, and of reassuring himself that his rut was going to be safe. That he would have his mate with him.

Lance was just happy to show Keith just how much he loved him.


	13. Keith/Lance - Teleport

Lance’s cat often got herself into trouble.

She was very adventurous. Blue was big and sleek, with a bobbed tail and short fur. He’d rescued her from the pound when she was a kitten – they were going to put her down, but he couldn’t let that happen. There was something about her that drew him in and didn’t let him go. He hadn’t even gone to the shelter to adopt an animal – the Holt’s dog, Rover, had accidentally gotten out when someone down the street had randomly let off fireworks, and he’d turned up at the shelter. Lance had driven Pidge there to pick him up.

He liked living with a cat, though. Even if Blue got into drawers she shouldn’t, and even if she shed fur everywhere, and even if her favourite sleeping spot was directly on top of Lance’s head. What could he say? She was cute.

But her habit of trying to befriend every living creature was becoming a bit of a problem. 

He’d already had to explain to her countless times that birds did not want to be friends with a cat. She chased them all the time, though she’d only ever caught one. She hadn’t even done anything with it, except sulk when it flew away. Blue had made friends with Rover too, and their neighbour’s cat. She’d even cozied up to the rabbits Lance had looked after for his cousins.

Lance wasn’t aware that the new neighbours who shared his back fence had a dog until Blue made friends with it. Somehow the dog had gotten over the back fence – which was a damn mystery, because that fence was taller than Lance – and it was now running around his yard, chasing after Blue.

When he’d first seen what was happening through the kitchen window, he’d freaked out. Some dogs didn’t like cats, not even friendly ones like Blue. 

But the dog was friendly, too. When it spotted Lance coming out into the back yard, it had run right up to him, tail wagging a mile a minute. It was much bigger than it looked up close, with impossibly thick black fur, and unnervingly bright blue eyes. It didn’t jump all over him like he expected, but it hovered, tail continuing to wag.

“And who do you belong to, huh?” Lance wondered, as he scratched it behind the ear. It was quite a pretty dog, he thought. He glanced at his back fence, and when he heard the commotion from beyond it, he dragged a chair over. 

Blue, evidently curious as well, jumped from the chair to the top of the fence. How she managed to balance there, he’d never know.

“Hello?” he called.

A head peered out from the neighbour’s back door. The guy looked like he was about Lance’s age, and had dark hair. When he spotted Lance, he walked closer. 

“Nice to meet you,” Lance said. He stuck his hand down over the fence and grinned when the guy shook it. He was actually quite handsome. “New neighbour?”

“Yeah,” the guy said, nodding. “Keith.”

“Lance. Not to sound frank or anything, but do you have a dog?”

“Yes, why–?” Keith glanced around the yard, evidently looking for his dog. “He’s around here somewhere.”

Amused, Lance asked, “He friendly? My cat has no sense of self preservation.”

Keith glanced at Blue, and gave her his hand to sniff. “He’s friendly.”

“Big too, I suppose?”

“Yes? How’d you know?”

The dog, having heard its owner’s voice, had come over to join Lance by the chair, standing up with its front legs against the fence. Lance bent for a moment, winding his arms around the dog’s waist, before giving a groan as he heaved its head into Keith’s view. “This him?”

“Oh my God.” Keith looked horrified as his dog gave him a quiet bark. “I swear it’s like he teleports!”

Lance laughed, breathless from keeping the dog upright. “Want him back?”

Together, they somehow managed to get the massive dog over the fence. It went back to exploring its yard, nose to the ground, while Blue watched it from her perch.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Keith said, frowning. “I didn’t think he’d be able to get over the fence.”

“Honestly, it’s alright,” Lance said. He gave Blue an affectionate pat. “More friends for Blue. My side gate is taller than this fence, so if he gets over again he can’t get out of my yard. Probably.”

Keith gave him a small smile. “Probably,” he agreed.

“Well, if you need any help, you know where I am,” Lance said.

“Okay, thank you,” Keith replied. He gave Blue one last scratch, much to her delight. “Bye, Blue.”

Lance had a feeling he’d be seeing a lot more of Keith – and his dog – in the future.


	14. Keith/Lance - Crush

Listen, Lance wasn’t going to say he had a lot of experience with fire nymphs. Why would he? He was born of water, and lived with the water nymphs. He’d never even met a fire nymph until he met Keith, and they weren’t very fast friends. Fast rivals, maybe. They didn’t get along for ages. It was months before they could be around each other without creating steam – literally.

But this… was a bit much.

“It’s not like he tries to set things on fire,” Lance said, surprising himself. Keith was sulking behind the couches, shoulder blades pressed so hard to the wall behind him he looked like he wanted to sink through it. His eyes were flashing orange in that way that meant he was close to losing control of his flames. Again.

“That doesn’t change the fact that this is getting out of control,” Shiro continued. The uneasy looks of agreement from the others sitting on the couches around him made Lance prickle. Shiro was speaking gently, in a firm but negotiable tone, but it still sounded like he was unfairly chastising Keith for something he couldn’t always control.

“I hate to sound overbearing, but I agree,” Allura said, frowning. She shot Keith an apologetic look, who bristled. “There have been a lot more incidents lately…”

The problem was, that was true. The last few months had seen Keith accidentally set fire to dozens of things – Pidge’s notes, Shiro’s jacket, one of the couch cushions in Allura’s living room. Nothing was safe from his little fiery outbursts. Fire nymphs were known to have tempers, and a tendency to lose control of their flames in emotional situations, but Keith’s problems had been escalating recently. Lance had had to put out at least a dozen small fires in the last few weeks.

“If there’s something we can do to help you Keith, just let us know,” Shiro said. It was easy to see that he cared about Keith a lot, but it just wasn’t reaching the fire nymph. 

“It’s nothing, okay?” Keith snapped, hunching further into his shoulders. “Just– just ignore it.”

Shiro’s frown was disapproving. “Keith–”

“I’m going to get some air.”

Lance watched with a sinking feeling in his stomach as Keith stormed out of the lounge room. He’d been feeling weird about Keith for a while known, and was reluctant to admit he had a crush. But there was something exciting about thinking of being with Keith, as more than a friend. Something that had him questioning a lot of things.

In a good way, he supposed.

“I’ll… go check on him,” Lance said, as he made a bunch of useless hand gestures, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He left the room before anyone could question him.

Keith was sitting out on the front porch, despite the fact that it was late at night and consequently quite cold and dark. He was bouncing a small, smoking flame between his palms, one that cast embers up towards his face. He looked deep in thought and quite uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Lance said.

Keith jumped at Lance’s voice, crushing the flame between his hands. It immediately cast them into darkness, so he lit another one, and kept it hovering above his hand.

“Can I sit?”

“Yeah.”

Lance sat. He fumbled for something to say, and settled on, “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Keith bit out, but it was clearly untrue. He let out a ragged sigh. “Not really.”

Lance watched the flame dance in Keith’s palm. It looked as light as air, but he knew it would burn him if he touched it. “What’s been up with you lately?”

Shrugging, Keith passed the flame from one hand to the next, shaking the original. There was ash and smoke on his glove, but there shouldn’t have been. Even now something was wrong with him.

Lance rested his elbow on his knee, and put his chin in his hand. He watched the side of Keith’s face and tried not to think about how pretty he was. “Want to talk about it?”

Keith hesitated, glancing at Lance out of the corner of his eyes. “There’s… someone I like,” he said slowly.

“You like someone?” Lance’s eyebrows shot up. He tried not to look too surprised or downhearted, but he didn’t know how well he managed. 

“Yeah.” Keith hesitated again. “But he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t like me back.”

“How do you know? Have you asked?”

“No.”

Lance gave him a look. He found it hard to believe that someone wouldn’t like Keith. Even if he was competitive and he had a stupid haircut, he was pretty and loyal and fun to be around. He liked to think he himself had excellent taste, and if he liked Keith, then surely Keith’s crush would like him too. “How can you know if you don’t ask?”

The flame gave an aggressive little jump. “I just know,” Keith insisted. “He’s never liked me. He wouldn’t even look at me twice that way.”

Lance bit his lip, thinking. As much as he was crushed that Keith liked someone else, he didn’t like seeing Keith so stressed out. “You shouldn’t count yourself out without even trying,” he said. “Do I know him?”

“Yes.”

“I do?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. What’s he like?”

Keith met his eyes. “He’s an idiot. He’s loud and makes stupid jokes that I don’t understand and he flirts with anything that moves.”

“Why do you even like him?” Lance couldn’t help but ask. That certainly didn’t sound like something someone would say about their crush.

“He… makes me feel included,” Keith said, voice slow and careful. “Even if he doesn’t like me like that he still hangs out with me, and makes me feel like I belong. I just… when I’m with him I want to be a better person.” He paused, and fixed his eyes elsewhere, growing red. “And he’s pretty. He has nice eyes.”

“Aw.” Lance grinned, and elbowed Keith in the side. He’d never seen Keith so bashful and honest. “You really like him, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You should tell him,” Lance decided. “If you like him so much that you’re losing control of your flames, then it’s a pretty serious thing for you, right? Even if he doesn’t like you back, at least you’ll know. It’s better than being in the dark about it.”

“I guess… I’m just not good with words.”

“Show him, then.”

Keith blinked at him. “Alright.”

And then Keith kissed him.

Lance was so surprised that for a moment he did nothing. A muffled noise left his lips, but it was lost between them. Keith’s mouth was surprisingly soft, but unsurprisingly forceful. He held the flame away from them but his other hand gripped Lance’s arm just a little too tightly.

It took a moment to click.

“What…?” Lance gaped at Keith when Keith suddenly drew away, looking worried and ashamed. He moved to stand, but Lance covered Keith’s hand with his own, feeling his face redden. He spluttered for a moment, words useless, then said, “You can do it again.”

Keith’s eyes flashed with something soft and hopeful. He leaned closer, and let Lance meet him halfway. The second kiss was less forceful, less one-sided and rushed. Lance responded this time. 

When he pulled away, he was frowning. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

Out of nowhere, Keith laughed. Relief was plain on his face. “You are an idiot. I’ve liked you for months and you didn’t even notice!”

“I’ve liked you for months and you haven’t noticed!” Lance shot back, embarrassed. Then he grinned. “You said I’m pretty.”

Keith huffed. He gave Lance a steady, confident look. “I wasn’t lying.”

And once again, Lance was embarrassed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a bit of bad (expensive) news today so I wrote a bit of pining Keith to cheer myself up. I like the idea of Keith crushing on Lance hard enough to lose his cool around him


	15. Lance/Shiro - Shift

Lance was given the lion two weeks after its accident. He didn’t know the details, but the lion had lost one of its front legs, and was completely unable to shift back into its human form. The healers had done what they could for its leg and replaced the limb with a prosthetic, but it couldn’t be worn until the injury site healed. They’d done what they could for its mind, but…

Sometimes the only thing that could heal trauma was time.

Lance was known for running a rehabilitation centre. He spent a lot of time caring for injured creatures, using his skills with water to make healing teas and purifying baths. His home was somewhat secluded, and close enough to the ocean to hear the waves at night. There weren’t any neighbours nearby, unless he wanted to go on a bit of a walk. He liked it that way. Unsurprisingly, those who stayed with him liked it, too.

For the most part, he only took in little critters that needed some rest and relaxation. He’ taken care of all sorts of creatures – little pixies that loved his garden and palm-sized forest nymphs with tiny little antlers that slept in his towels and even a kelpie foal once, one that he’d had to walk by the beach on a leash until it learned to swim properly.

Taking care of a lion-shifter was a bit of a challenge.

For one, the lion was massive. Taller than Lance by several heads and so wide across the shoulders he could barely get his arms around its chest. He had its prosthetic, which had been mailed over with the lion from the healers, but the lion never wore it. To be fair, it didn’t do much of anything. Lance didn’t expect it to, though. It slept a lot, curled up in the den Lance had made in his spare room for it, and it sometimes limped out into the garden, though it never left the gate, not even when Lance offered to take it to the beach.

Bathing a lion that size was difficult. Lance had to use the garden hose, and convincing the lion to sit still long enough for him to clean all its fur earned him deadpanned, unamused looks. Feeding it was a challenge too. Lance couldn’t help but remember that there was a human somewhere inside its mind, so offering it raw meat – which is what lion-shifters actually ate when they were shifted – felt odd.

But he got used to it. He liked to think the lion got used to him, too.

One evening, Lance was sitting on the porch watching the sunset when the lion came out to join him. It slumped down behind him, still unused to moving with only three legs, and rested its head on the steps. It looked forlorn and lonely, and it tore at Lance’s heart.

“Don’t worry too much, you’ll be right as rain soon,” Lance said, as he gently put his hand on its head. It had a very thick mane, but its fur was soft and tangle-free. “I’ll get you all fixed up soon enough.”

The lion only rumbled.

It took a few weeks, but the lion started to respond to him more. It seemed to be healing mentally, coming out of its thoughts to instead monitor what was going on around it. Although it was clearly hesitant, it followed him down to the beach, pawing through the sand as steadily as it could. Lance chattered to it constantly, saying anything and everything that came to mind. He did that for all his patients, but it felt especially important for this one, who could understand him more than an animal could.

Lance became quite used to having the lion around. It sat behind him while he cooked and rested its large head on his lap while he read. One evening, it sat by his bedside until he drifted away, and when he woke the next morning it was half draped across him, completely asleep. 

He was quite fond of it. Days turned into weeks which turned into months as the lion slowly healed. He could tell it was trying to shift back, but it hadn’t been successful yet. 

“Don’t try to force it,” he chastised, as they sat on the beach together. The lion was slumped across his legs, panting from exertion. He ran his fingers through its mane, worried. “There’s no rushing these things, my silly lion. The more you push, the harder it will be.”

It huffed, but settled, it’s breathing evening out. Lance was learning how stubborn it could be, and he found it oddly endearing. As its injuries healed, it became more affectionate, slowly revealing more of its true nature. Lance had never seen what the lion looked like, nor did he know its name, but…

He felt like they had a connection.

It was hard to explain.

Months passed before the lion was finally able to shift back. When he did, it was the middle of the night, and Lance was fast asleep. He wasn’t sure what woke him, but something did, and when he opened his eyes he found a man lying beside him.

He was impossibly handsome, Lance thought. His hair was as shockingly white as his fur, and long because of the time he’d spent stuck in his shifted form. There was an angry scar across his nose but it did nothing to subtract from his beauty. The man’s face was twisted with discomfort, and he was breathing hard. It was clear that shifting had taken a lot out of him.

“Hey, look at you,” Lance said, grinning sleepily, voice hoarse. He sat upright, sheets falling around his hips, and put his hand on the man’s head. “Feeling okay?”

“A little stiff,” the man croaked. He looked thoroughly exhausted, but the smile he gave Lance was so relieved and affectionate that it made Lance’s chest go all warm. “Thank you. For everything. I…”

“It’s alright,” Lance soothed. He lifted the sheets over the man, studiously ignoring how he was completely naked. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay? I’m just glad you’re finally able to shift. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t have helped me,” the man said. He tilted his face into Lance’s palm, smiling. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Lance flushed. “My silly lion,” he said.

He got a grin in reply.

Sleep was easy to attain after that. He had a lot to look forward to in the morning, after all.


	16. Lance/Shiro - Drifting

Lance had been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately.

He went through periods like this every so often, especially back when he’d been in school and particularly prone to stress. It mostly happened if he was anxious, or if he had a lot of worrying things on his mind, though sometimes it happened for no apparent reason at all. In either case, it left him extremely tired and frustrated, two things that did not make a good combination.

It was mostly the act of actually falling asleep that troubled him. He’d do everything he’d normally do, and even wear headphones and an eye mask, but it was no use. Every little sound disturbed him, and every small light woke him. It didn’t matter how tired he’d been before he went to bed, he just suddenly couldn’t fall asleep. And on the off chance that he did, it was never for long.

His rough sleeping was worrying his boyfriend Shiro, who was giving him that look that said he was determined to fix a problem (and a determined Shiro was utterly unstoppable). 

“That’s sneaky,” Lance complained that evening, when they were relaxing on the couch together after dinner. He was lying down, his head cushioned in Shiro’s lap. A lot of stress at work had left Lance stuck in a sleepless rut, and Shiro knew about it. He was currently running his fingers through Lance’s hair, scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. It was making Lance drowsy when he really didn’t want to go through that fight yet.

“I have more than enough experience with insomnia to know that this will help,” Shiro said, in his best no-nonsense tone. His voice took on a softer edge. “And I have more than enough experience with you to know how to relax you.”

That was true, Lance would admit. As Shiro’s fingers traced down the exposed skin of his neck to draw patterns along his shoulders and what Shiro could reach of his back, Lance could feel all his muscles slowly loosening. He knew that Shiro did have a lot of experience with insomnia – he’d told Lance about all the struggles he’d had after his accident, when he’d had to adjust to living with one arm, and then a prosthetic. Nightmares and an inability to fall asleep had been just a few of them.

“The more relaxed you are, the better,” Shiro soothed. When Lance reached back to blindly paw at him, he slipped Lance’s hand into his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m always relaxed with you,” he mumbled, eyes slipping shut.

Shiro laughed quietly. It was like music to his ears. 

There was little Lance could do when Shiro was so determined to help him sleep. Really, he was thankful Shiro cared for him so much. Shiro’s help usually did the trick, and already he could feel himself drifting away. 

It was crazy what the love and care of someone very precious to him could do to help.


	17. Keith/Lance - Ash

Clamping his hands tighter over his ears, almost hard enough that it hurt, Lance couldn’t help but cry out as the roars from the volcano continued. He’d never heard anything like it and it was terrifying.

The fire lands were full of active volcanoes. He learned about it in geography lessons with Coran, but looking at pictures of the erupting mountains in textbooks and actually seeing them spew plumes of smoke and ash into the air were very different things. The water lands, where he and his people were from, didn’t have anything like this. The closest thing he’d seen were underwater vents erupting, but they were much smaller, and always viewed from the safety of a boat.

He’d somehow gotten separated from the rest of his people when they’d been travelling across the fire lands. None of the volcanoes were meant to erupt, but it wasn’t like nature was perfectly predictable. Rumblings from the nearest mountain had shaken the earth and spooked their horses making them rear up sharply. They’d scattered in all different directions, and Lance had ended up alone in the forest, cowering in the hollow of a tree trunk as ash rained down from the mountain peak. It was in his hair and stuck to his skin, and every so often he’d let out a cough that tasted like smoke and fumes.

His father had been worried about letting him go on this excursion without him. Lance was still young – nearly thirteen, he insisted! – so he still needed the guiding magic of someone strongly connected with the water to keep him safe. But Coran was with him, and Coran always kept him safe, so he’d convinced his father to let him go to the fire lands. After all, if Allura could do this when she was his age, then why couldn’t he?

But he was so scared.

A deep growl trembled out of the mountain, rattling the trees of the forest hard enough that their leaves fell to the ground. Lance cried out again, curling tighter in on himself as ash blew across the foliage above him. The air was thick with heat and it was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Out of nowhere, a voice called out for him.

“Prince!”

It wasn’t anyone he recognised. A boy who looked only a little older than him crouched in front of the tree opening, one hand reached in for him. He had dark hair and eyes that looked almost violet in this lighting. His hair and clothes were covered in ash but it didn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Come on, we have to get back to the castle before it gets dark,” the boy say, pushing his hand forwards again, impatient. “Let’s go.”

Lance clutched at the boy’s fingers with his own shaking hands. He let the boy pull him out from the tree’s safety, but his ankle gave a sharp burst of pain and he stumbled. He’d been hurt when he was thrown from his horse but in his panic he hadn’t noticed.

“Hold on,” the boy said. He pulled Lance’s arm around his shoulders, bearing most of his weight, and then began to rush him through the trees as fast as he could manage. “The rest of your people are at the castle already.”

“Are they okay?” Lance croaked.

“Yes.”

Lance’s relief was short lived. When the volcano behind them gave another shudder and a fresh plume of ash was expelled high into the sky, Lance jumped so hard he fell to his knees, clutching one hand to his ear. He could barely feel his legs. “It’s too loud...!”

The boy groaned as he heaved Lance back upright. “It’ll be alright, okay? We have to keep moving.”

“I’m scared!”

“I know it’s scary,” the boy said, impatient again, “but you have to trust me, okay? Just listen to me and not the mountain.”

Lance blinked the tears from his eyes and nodded. He kept his gaze on the side of the boy’s face as they stumbled through the trees, his fingers clutching at the boy’s shirt. He was wearing clothes from the fire lands, with the royal guard’s crest on the back, but Lance didn’t recognise him. “What’s your name?”

The boy’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment. “Keith,” he said.

“Prince Shirogane’s younger brother?” Lance’s mouth dropped opened with surprise. He knew the fire lands had a younger prince, though he was not related to the royal family by blood. Neither was Prince Shirogane, for that matter. Rather, the fire lands had elected their leader from the strongest in their guard, the one who had heroically led them to freedom from the previous regime. In their eyes, Takashi Shirogane – and the young boy he’d cared for all of his life – were as good as blood royals. The rest of the lands, including Lance’s people, respected them a great deal.

“Have you met my brother?”

“Once,” Lance admitted, “when we first arrived last week… But you weren’t there.”

“I was training.”

“Training?”

“With the guard.” Keith’s face took on a proud, barely-hidden expression. “I want to be like Shiro.”

That caught Lance off guard, for some reason. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it seemed like Prince Shirogane’s talents and his heroics were so far out of reach for a normal person. He had done many great things in his life, and continued to be an inspiration for his people. Lance’s family spoke well of him after delegations.

In a way, Keith’s statements reminded Lance of himself.

“I want to be like Allura,” he said. “That’s why I came here.”

Keith gave him a puzzled but understanding look. “I’ve never met the Princess. But I’ve heard good things about her.”

Lance cracked a small grin. “She’s amazing.”

After they broke through a last line of trees, the castle loomed into view. Workers and guards were running around in all directions, preparing in case the volcano started erupting more than just ash and smoke. Lance could see flashes of blue among their red-and-black clothing, blue he recognised as uniforms from the water lands. He anxiously looked for a head of familiar orange hair but was found by the man before he spotted him.

“Prince Lance!” Coran cried, as he swooped towards them out of nowhere. He was frazzled, his appearance messy, but relief was easy to see on his face as he bundled Lance up into his arms. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe! Do you know how much you frightened me?”

Lance only whimpered, too caught up in Coran’s familiarity to do much else. He still had a hand clenched in Keith’s shirt.

“Are you hurt?” Coran demanded, as he pulled back. He clapped both hands to Lance’s cheeks, palms pulsing blue as cool magic flowed through him. “Are you drained? Do you feel faint?”

“I’m okay!” Lance squeezed out. “Keith helped me.”

Coran rounded on Keith, who looked startled at the attention. He stiffened when Coran crushed him in a tight hug too. “Thank you, young fire Prince! You have my gratitude.”

“It was nothing,” Keith said, as he squirmed away. He tucked one hand around Lance’s elbow, looking shy as he tried to take in Coran’s overwhelming personality. “I’ll take him to the infirmary just in case.”

Coran nodded, and despite how reluctantly he left Lance, his attention was soon pulled elsewhere.

“Is he always like that?” Keith whispered, leaning close to Lance with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah,” Lance said. 

Keith blinked. “He’s… emotional.”

Lance giggled. “Yeah.”

Keith gave him a small smile. “Let’s go to the infirmary, okay? We can clean the ash off.”

“Okay.”

If either one of them notice that they had yet to let go of each either, they didn’t say anything.


	18. Keith/Lance - Heart

Lance scowled as Allura tried to reason with him, turning his face away. He stubbornly fixed his gaze out of the window, hands folded stiff and neat on the tabletop. He knew Allura was just trying to look out for him, that the cause of his misery wasn’t her doing, but he just… couldn’t dispel the gloominess from him.

“It’s not like you’ll never see him again,” Allura tried, turning to catch his eyes.

“You don’t know that,” he snapped back, but guilt instantly had him avoiding her gaze again. He wasn’t angry at her, he really wasn’t, but he just didn’t want to talk about it. His heart and pride still stung from the scathing lecture he’d gotten from their father a few days before.

“I do know that,” Allura insisted. She sat on the edge of the table and reached for one of his hands, cradling it between both of hers. “I know father doesn’t approve of your affections for that boy, but it’s not as though that makes them any less true. And you did not see the way he looked at you, Lance. Even if you were forbidden from seeing one another, I’m sure he would find his way back to you.”

“We don’t even live in the same kingdom,” Lance whispered.

He knew that as the Prince of Altea, he had to act and speak in a certain way. He was the second in line for the throne, so it was more likely that one day he would be put into an arranged marriage with a foreigner, one that would benefit both kingdoms involved. Allura would be needed to take over Altea’s throne, after all. He was sure his parents would never force him into a loveless marriage, that there had to be a connection evident before they’d sign off on anything, but it was still something that was almost certainly in his future.

Falling for someone not intended for him wasn’t something he should do.

But he couldn’t control his heart. It wanted what it wanted, and what it wanted was Keith.

He was a member of the Galra royal guard, pulled from one of their elite divisions – the Blade – to work with Altean guards while delegations were underway. Keith was the guard personally assigned to Lance, and during his visit to the Galra kingdom, Keith hadn’t left his side. Lance hadn’t liked him at first. It felt like he was being babysat.

Keith was interesting, though. Or Lance had come to think of him as interesting. He wasn’t very good in social situations, and tended to make rash decisions when the pressure was on, even though those decisions almost always worked out well for him. He was incredibly skilled with swords and blades, and had a good mind for tactics. Work aside, he was actually quite awkward. He didn’t make friends well, and didn’t respond to teasing well, mostly because he struggled to understand jokes. Surprisingly, that didn’t make him unpleasant to be around. Lance rather enjoyed teasing him anyway, because it made Keith flustered.

He had seemed nervous to be around a Prince, Lance thought at first. Especially a Prince under his care. But it was more like Keith was nervous to be around _Lance,_ and Lance really liked that. Sure, Keith still treated him like a Prince, but when they were alone… he just treated Lance like a person. Not many people could do that.

Maybe that’s why Lance had fallen for him. 

He hadn’t wanted to leave the Galra kingdom because it meant leaving Keith. Being without him had suddenly seemed unbearable, so he’d asked to stay. It’s not like delegates – even royals – didn’t stay in foreign territories. Study periods and extended assemblies often saw royals and nobles staying in foreign kingdoms for long periods of time.

His parents hadn’t approved, though. Keith wasn’t of royal blood, no matter how valued he was in the Galra ranks. And they hadn’t chosen him. Hadn’t even known Lance liked him. After all, Keith was meant to be protecting Lance, not seducing him. He knew that that’s what they thought had happened, even though it wasn’t. 

Lance supposed it was unsurprising that his request to stay in the Galra kingdom had been denied. He’d returned to Altea, been thoroughly chastised by his father, and spent days sulking and ignoring everyone. 

“I just… miss him,” Lance whispered, eyes lowered. “I want to see him again.”

Allura squeezed his hand. “I know, Lance,” she said quietly. He looked up at her, and her saddened expression made his throat tight. “I don’t agree with father’s decision. He did not see you with that boy, and doesn’t understand the connection you felt with him. I know he’s worried about the future of Altea, but I have been afforded the freedom to choose that I know you are denied. And yet…” She sighed. “Your heart has always been very wild, Lance. If this is what you want, then you know I will always be on your side.”

He gave her a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Allura’s comforting words eased some of the hurt in him. It was difficult to navigate situations like this with both politics and emotions involved. Lance had always thought he’d do whatever his kingdom needed, but feeling the way he did for Keith had made him unsure. He didn’t like feeling so conflicted.

“I’ll see what I can do, alright?” Allura said, when he remained silent. “Don’t be so upset, Lance. I’m sure everything will work out.”

He tried to smile again, but he couldn’t. 

He continued to sulk as days went by. Despite his reluctance to do anything but brood, he knew he couldn’t ignore his duties forever. He returned to his studies, and went to the meetings that required his attention, and smiled when he had to. But his heart wasn’t in it.

No, he’d left that with Keith all the way back in the Galra kingdom.

However, he shouldn’t have underestimated Allura’s wilfulness. He’d almost forgotten about her promise. When she strolled into one of the palace’s studies that evening, obviously looking for him, he was a little concerned. The mischievous look in her eyes was one he, as her younger sibling, knew very well.

“What is it?” he asked, as he set down his pen. He was meant to be studying, but he’d spent most of the evening staring out of the window, unable to help but let his thoughts stray. It had been a quiet day; no one had bothered him for hours. He wasn’t expecting Allura.

“How much do you love me?” she asked, clapping her hands together. “I have something for you, to cheer you up. Seeing you so miserable is making everyone all low-spirited, you know.”

He frowned at her.

“Come now, don’t give me that look.” She stuck her head back out of the study door, gesturing. “I’m expecting to be thanked quite profusely for all the trouble I’ve gone through.”

“What are you…?”

Lance’s words dried up as a familiar face walked through the door. Although he looked tense and hesitant – probably because he’d had to sneak around a foreign kingdom – there was no mistaking the eager, searching look on Keith’s face.

“Keith…!” Lance stood abruptly, his chair screeching back. He felt his face fall open in shock, and for a moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat rabbiting against his chest. 

His mind very quickly caught up with what he was seeing. He scrambled away from the desk, loping across the room in several quick strides so that he could throw himself at Keith. The moment they collided, it was like something in Lance finally slotted back into place.

Keith’s arms went around his waist, palms pressed to the small of his back. Lance stuffed his face into the crook of Keith’s neck, eyes squeezed shut. He knew it was crazy but he was sure Keith smelt the same, that he still expelled the same warmth he had when they’d first embraced. 

“I missed you,” Keith whispered, nudging their foreheads together. There was happiness in his voice, and a smile pulling at his face. Lance just stared at him, too overwhelmed to say anything. He clutched at Keith like he was going to disappear any moment.

Over Keith’s shoulder, Allura was smiling at them. Lance met her gaze and gave her an honest smile back. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how you did it, but…”

“I have my ways,” she said, before waving goodbye. “But don’t let anyone see him, okay?”

Lance let out a small laugh. 

Keith watched her go with a fond look. “The Princess is unexpectedly devious,” he said.

“I get it from her,” Lance grinned.

Keith touched a hand to Lance’s face, looking serious again. He kept one arm around Lance’s hips, holding him close. “I missed you,” he said again. “More than anything.”

Lance bumped their foreheads together again, breathing out deeply. The knot of longing in his chest was slowly easing apart. Just having Keith in his sights again filled him with the most indescribable feeling. “I missed you too,” he whispered. “More than anything.”

Keith smiled again, that secret little smile he had just for Lance. He slid his hand to the back of Lance’s neck and pulled him closer again. Lance nuzzled his neck, breathing him in over and over, letting Keith fill all the little cracks that had plagued him since he’d left the Galra kingdom.

He never wanted to be apart from Keith again. Surely his heart couldn’t take it.


	19. Keith/Lance - Noticed

No one really noticed when Keith started courting Lance, not even Lance himself. In hindsight, it was quite obvious. But at the time he hadn’t noticed at all, and he didn’t think Keith had, either.

They’d been getting along better these days, so much so that Lance enjoyed spending time with Keith, even if it was just them. They went out to get food and had movie nights like any other friends, he’d thought. There hadn’t been anything romantic about it in the beginning. After spending so long with nothing but tenseness between them, they’d needed the time to actually become friends, and get to know one another.

It wasn’t like they weren’t compatible. Lance would begrudgingly admit that Keith was quite a handsome alpha, even if he had a mullet. He might have been quiet and prone to brooding, and incredibly awkward in social situations, but he was also protective and competitive, and he was interesting to talk to. Lance liked him, even back then. There. He admitted it.

He supposed it started slow, so subtle that neither one of them – or anyone else, for that matter – noticed. Keith would hold the door for him, a friendly enough gesture. When they got takeaway, Keith would always portion out Lance’s food first, and make sure he had napkins. That’s what friends did, right? Normal enough. If they happened to be walking somewhere while it rained, Keith would always make sure Lance was a little more under the umbrella than he was, even if it meant his shoulders would get wet. 

Little things like that started to add up.

If Lance were being honest, he sort of liked the attention Keith gave him. Their stubborn competitiveness was addicting, and he liked messing around with Keith. It was easy to tease him, even if Keith did manage to get Lance back quite a few times.

In the end, it was Allura who pointed it out. She was an alpha, so she’d probably recognised Keith’s instincts for what they were. “I didn’t know you were courting,” she’d said, eyebrows raised with surprised, as they and their friends sat gathered around eating junk and watching movies.

Lance glanced up, giving her a confused look, one that Keith mirrored. “Huh?”

Allura gestured between them, looking just as confused as Lance felt. “Well… aren’t you? Courting?”

Lance flushed red all the way up to his ears. “No!”

“Really?” Allura looked even more surprised than before. She shared a look with Shiro, seated beside her, who only shrugged. “But you smell like Keith.”

“All the time,” Pidge added from across the room, as she glanced up from her phone. “It’s kind of gross, actually.”

“And Keith doesn’t eat until you’ve got food first,” Hunk agreed, giving Lance an innocent look when Lance shot a glare at him. “It’s true! Isn’t that what courting alphas do?”

It was, but Lance didn’t say that.

“You do glare at other alphas when they get near him,” Shiro said to Keith. He gave Keith a soft, encouraging look. “I thought you were keeping it quiet, for the time being.”

Keith seemed to be just as taken aback by Lance. He met Lance’s eyes and they both flushed. Everything their friends were saying was true, wasn’t it? They were spending a lot of time alone together, and their scents were all over one another, and Keith had been doing a lot of stereotypical, alpha caretaker things, like making sure Lance had food and holding doors and being protective. More than that was the fact that Lance liked it when Keith did those things.

He felt himself growing more and more flustered as he realised his friends were probably right. He did like Keith like that, even if he’d done nothing to act on those feelings. They’d sort of been in the background while he let himself enjoy Keith’s company. Besides, how was he to know if Keith returned those feelings?

“I guess we are courting, then,” Keith suddenly said, his voice full of shaky confidence. He looked at Lance out of the corner of his eyes, expression nervous. Even if it hadn’t been worded as a question, Lance knew that Keith was giving him an option here. 

“I guess we are,” he agreed, wide-eyed, when he managed to stop staring.

The lines of Keith’s face eased with relief and, satisfied, he turned back to his food. Lance did the same, smothering his grin. He could feel their friends looking at him but he ignored their gazes.

He and Keith were courting.

Huh. Who would’ve thought it would be that easy?

As he continued eating, he couldn’t help but let his joy seep into his scent. It made Keith lean closer, his own scent thick with pleasure. Lance was one happy omega indeed.


	20. Keith/Lance - Trim

“Will you hold still?”

“I’m trying. It tickles.”

Lance scowled, his fingers digging into Keith’s shoulders. He could tell that Keith was avoiding his eyes in the mirror. “I don’t want to mess it up, okay?”

“You won’t,” Keith said. He reached up a hand to pat Lance’s fingers. “Besides, I don’t really care what you do with it, as long as it isn’t in my eyes as much. As long as you like it then I don’t mind.”

Despite himself, Lance was flattered by Keith’s admission. His boyfriend’s unending trust in him was certainly comforting, even if it frustrated him a little. “I want you to like it too,” he insisted, though he wasn’t surprised when Keith only shrugged in reply, offering him a sheepish look. Keith had never really done anything with his hair, after all. It just wasn’t something that was important to him.

Hair was important to Lance, though. 

He often deep-conditioned, and used coconut oil, and had nice-smelling serums for his own hair. Lance was a bit of a beauty fanatic – he liked to have silky hair and soft skin. Since starting to date Keith, he’d helped his boyfriend – at Keith’s request – fix his own routine a little. And by “fix”, Lance meant “begin”, because Keith had no idea what to do with himself. 

Lance knew that Keith would never be into beauty like he was, but he could help Keith keep a simple routine. Some face moisturiser, a better hair conditioner, and Keith was all done. He seemed to like the idea that he was taking care of himself, even if Lance was the one directing him, and Lance was more than happy to do so. 

The hair was a challenge, though. Keith didn’t like styling it and Lance didn’t push him to, even if he teased Keith about it all the time. It was long enough for him to run his fingers through, and sometimes got in Keith’s eyes when he went a little too long without a trim. He wasn’t interested in getting a lot cut off, at least not for now, but when he’d asked Lance to trim it for him…

Well, it’s not like Lance would have said no. His cousins and extended family often asked him to give them little trims because he did it for free and actually did a pretty decent job, for someone who hadn’t really had much training (his grandmother had showed him how, and everyone in the family knew that she was the best at it).

Lance really didn’t want to mess up his boyfriend’s hair. He knew that Keith wouldn’t really care either way, but Lance cared enough for the two of them.

“Just hold still, alright? I seriously can’t live with the thought of you having an uneven mullet.”

Keith muffled his laughter. “You’re taking this way too seriously.” He shuffled his shoulders, getting comfortable on the low stool Lance had seated him on. “Alright, I’ll be still now.”

Lance rolled his eyes. He bent over to press a kiss to Keith’s cheek, unable to help himself. “If you hate it, you’ll tell me right?”

“Yep.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Lance. It’s just a trim though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance adjusted the towel around Keith’s shoulders and picked up the haircutting scissors. He really did appreciate Keith’s trust in him, even if it was just for something as simple as a little trim. 

And as much as he teased Keith about his hair, he really liked it, and that meant he didn’t want to mess it up. 

With a sigh, he forced himself to begin.


	21. Lance/Shiro - Obvious

Shiro tried not to make it too obvious that he was watching Lance. Again, he unhelpfully thought. He was watching Lance _again._

Truth be told, he was a little unsure about when he’d become so fascinated by his lively co-worker. Lance had been a little… annoying, at first. He was loud and flirtatious to a ridiculous level, and not always in the charming, suave way he thought he was. He chimed in at the wrong times and could be quite competitive, and Shiro hadn’t known how to deal with his personality.

That had changed, little by little.

Underneath all of Lance’s colourful quirks, he was quite caring and affectionate. He had a way of complimenting people that was easy to accept, even for someone like Shiro, who didn’t know how to take compliments very well. And Lance was always completely honest about the things he said, especially the complimentary things. His expression was always open and carefree when he was happy, and it was… addicting to look at.

Shiro was incredibly drawn to Lance’s happiness.

He wasn’t sure why, but he was. There was no hiding it.

Which led to a lot of staring. He’d since come to terms with the fact that he had a bit of a hopeless crush on Lance, but he had no idea what to do about it. He knew Lance was bisexual, like he was, so gender wasn’t an issue. Trying to figure out if he was Lance’s type was the real challenge. He doubted the few years age gap they had was much of a problem, but was he physically attractive to Lance? Was his personality desirable?

It was like thinking in circles. He wouldn’t know any of the answers to his questions unless he asked them, and even thinking about asking them left him flustered and embarrassed. He wasn’t the best at dating. In fact, he hadn’t really dated much since his accident. A lot of the time afterwards had been devoted to his recovery, but after that, he hadn’t had the motivation. Working and socialising with friends had been his top priority.

But he was interested in dating now, he’d admit that. He liked the idea of going on dates and remembering anniversaries and making dinner together with someone special. Allura would say he was a romantic at heart, if he ever told her those sort of things. As it was, he was sure she’d figured out who he was crushing on, because she was devious and insightful like that.

He supposed the staring didn’t help his case.

“You should just say something,” Allura whispered at him, leaning across the desk to grab his attention. “Or, you know… anything. Anything at all, really. Even a simple hello would suffice–”

“Allura,” he hissed, flinching like their whispered conversation might be overheard. He bent over to hear her clearer, clutching the stack of paperwork he’d brought her to his chest. “Don’t be so loud!”

“I’m whispering,” she teased, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips. “Stop freaking out and it won’t be so obvious.”

He scowled at her, straightening. With robotic motions, he neatly set the stack of paperwork on her desk. “From the client meeting this morning.”

“Thanks.” Allura slid the stack closer to herself but ultimately left them to the side as she fixed him with another look. “So, about…” She let her gaze slide pointedly just beyond him. 

He glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough Lance was there, leaning against Hunk’s desk and looking as attractive as ever. He was wearing a blue turtleneck underneath his usual brown jacket today, and he looked beautiful in it. Shiro rather liked it when Lance wore turtlenecks. They suited him. Pretty much everything suited him, actually.

“There you go with the staring again,” Allura said, laughing quietly. 

Shiro snapped to attention, flushing red. “I was not staring,” he argued, voice weak.

“Uh huh.”

Alright, maybe he was staring. But for now, that’s all he had the confidence to do. He wasn’t sure how to get Lance’s attention, but he had no problem spending a little more time admiring him from afar. After all, it was only recently that Shiro admitted to himself that he did actually have a crush on Lance. That it wasn’t just friendly admiration. He thought that was a step in the right direction, and considering the current, non-existent state of his love life, it was definitely something he could work with.

“You poor, romantic sap of a man,” Allura sighed, resting her cheek in her hand. “Pining away from a distance, ready to swoon the moment Lance bats his pretty eyelashes at you. I’m shocked no one else has noticed, really. You’re so bad at being subtle.”

He flushed, his embarrassed scowl returning. “Shut up, Allura.”


	22. Keith/Lance - Teriyaki

Keith first met the creature in the water when he was a child. He still secretly thought that there was a small chance the creature had been intending to eat him, though he evidently hadn’t in the end.

He was Keith’s little secret, that creature. As Keith grew older, and his visits to the creature grew more frequent, he learned more about him. The only word he could find to describe it was mermaid, but that didn’t seem to fit quite right. Sure, the creature had the torso of a human and a long tail instead of legs, but he wasn’t like the pretty, topless women all the books of mythology spoke about. The creature didn’t try to enchant Keith to swim with him, and he didn’t try to bargain. It was more like he was looking for a friend, even if that friend was someone antisocial like Keith.

He was more like a person than most people, Keith thought, which was certainly surprising.

His name was Lance. As far as Keith could tell, the shape of his tail was more like that of a shark; long and muscled, though with delicately tapered fins and a light splattering of scales that Keith only noticed when he got very close. Lance didn’t only have them on his tail – the scales spread up his hips, over his shoulders and down behind his shoulder blades, and even up under his eyes and around his temples. They protected him from getting sunburnt when he was in shallow water.

To say Keith was curious about Lance was the understatement of the century. As he grew older he realised exactly how precious his relationship with Lance was. It wasn’t like all humans had a mermaid for a friend, after all. Nobody else knew that Lance and his kind existed. Keith was very careful about keeping Lance’s secret, knowing that the trust Lance had in him was partly due to the fact that Keith was capable of keeping it secret in the first place.

Lance came to visit Keith once a week, more if they could both manage it. There was a little hidden cove on the far side of the beach near Keith’s house, one that required a bit of hiking and climbing to get to. Keith had only found it by accident (and by extension, Lance) but he’d never lost his way since. It took a bit to get there – hiking off the path away from the shore, then looping back towards the water over rocks with no posts or steps to get back down to the shore. Lance’s little cove was nestled under the shelter of overhanging rocks, hidden from view from all angles except straight out into the sea.

It was the perfect place for a mermaid to hide, put simply.

That’s where Keith was heading, now. It was late afternoon, the water turned a bright orange from the setting sun. Summer meant that it was still warm and balmy outside, so Keith hadn’t bothered with his jacket. Instead he carried a lunchbox full of teriyaki chicken, something he’d give to Lance. In recent years that was something he’d always done. Lance liked trying human food, so Keith had taught himself to cook as best as he could.

He found Lance where he always did, sitting on the rocks by the side with his tail dipped in the water. He was weaving a string full of shells and strange beads, one he’d no doubt gift to Keith. He had a steady collection of them growing at home, and when no one was around, he liked to get them all out and look at them closely. He’d never admit it but he kept every single thing Lance gave him, not because Lance was a mermaid, but because he was fun and interesting to be around. 

“You’re late,” Lance accused, pouting at Keith when he managed to stumble his way into the cove.

“It’s not easy getting here, you know,” Keith said. 

Lance only offered him a toothy grin, reaching out with both hands to grab at the lunchbox, shells and beads forgotten. “What’s that?”

“Teriyaki chicken.” Keith handed it over and plucked up the beads, turning them over in his hands. They were as beautiful as ever. 

Lance plucked at the chicken with his fingers, consuming it faster that humanly possible. “It’s so good,” he groaned. “Why is human food so delicious?”

Snorting, Keith settled on the rock beside him. He gave Lance’s tail a curious look. “How big are you going to grow? You look taller.”

“Oh, not too big, I guess,” Lance answered, distracted, sounding faintly forlorn. “But a bit bigger. My brother has an entire tail length on me!”

Keith’s eyebrows rose. They’d worked out that a “tail length” was about a metre, give or take a little, so adding that onto Lance’s already long body was quite surprising. “You think you’ll be as big as him?”

“Probably not,” Lance said, stuffing another bit of chicken in his mouth. “I take more after my Ma, and although she’s a lot smaller than my Dad, she’s only half a tail length smaller than me. She thinks I’ve almost stopped growing.”

Keith hummed. 

“What about you? You gonna get much bigger? You’re already taller than most humans I’ve seen. From a distance, anyway.”

“Probably.” Keith thought for a moment. “Both of my parents are really tall, and my father is quite broad, too. I’ll probably keep growing for a few more years. How big does your kind grow, anyway?”

“Depends on the species.” Lance waved a flippant hand. “I once met one of the greater species, and boy was she massive. Her tail alone was more than thirty tail lengths!”

Keith couldn’t imagine something that big living in the ocean. “Thirty?” he repeated, surprised.

“At least,” Lance said, nodding. “But her species don’t really go near the surface. Actually, they don’t really come out of the depths at all. The pressure down there is perfect for their lungs, and their bodies aren’t built to withstand any sort of sunlight. I’ve only seen them that one time. It was so cold down there. Did you make this, by the way?”

“Yeah.” Keith glanced at the lunchbox, unsurprised that Lance had already managed to demolish the entire serving, despite the fact that his mouth hadn’t stopped moving yet. “Was it okay?”

“Perfect, as usual,” Lance grinned, flashing his sharp teeth again. He leaned into Keith’s space, putting his nose against Keith’s neck. “I’m starting to think you’re fond of me, what with these home cooked treats.”

Keith flushed, stubbornly turning his face to the side. Lance wasn’t exactly… wrong. But he wasn’t ready to admit that yet, not knowing all the problems it could pose for him. 

(Problems that he was sure would be worth the trouble if he got to spend time with Lance as more than friends, but he couldn’t think about that yet.)

“It’s okay, I’m fond of you too.” Lance grinned again, as he wound his damp arms around Keith. “And not just because you bring me food!”

Keith shouldn’t have found that charming, but he did.

He was in deep.


	23. Keith/Lance - Beanbag

“Lance, your elbow is digging into my side.”

“Then move your side.”

“I physically cannot move my side.”

“You can try.”

Keith shot him a scowl. Lance could feel it burning into the side of his face, but he only grinned. He knew Keith wouldn’t stay mad at him for long, but he reshuffled his limbs anyway, trying to wedge himself into the beanbag in a comfortable way.

Why they’d decided to sit like this was suddenly beyond him. It totally hadn’t been at his request, nope. Definitely not. It’s not like a massive, comfortable-looking beanbag had appeared in the common room, just waiting to be sat in. No one else in their friend group ever used it, so why couldn’t they? It had seemed romantic when Lance first suggested it. 

He didn’t really count on the fact that they’d both sink into it and become a tangled mess of pointy limbs and complaints. Still, after a bit of moving around and a bit of readjusting, Lance sank back against Keith, and was finally comfortable.

“Better?” he asked.

Keith slung an arm around Lance’s shoulders, palm splayed flat against his chest. “Much,” he said, humming. 

Lance let out a content sigh. All positioning problems aside, the beanbag was actually quite comfortable. He’d never seen one big enough to fit two people so well, and he was glad he’d managed to wrestle Keith down into it. His boyfriend wasn’t really the cuddly type, not unless they were alone in the privacy of their rooms, so this was a real treat for him.

He wondered if Keith would get embarrassed if someone showed up. This wasn’t a private room, after all; anyone could walk in on them. The common room was usually full of people, though today it was surprisingly quiet. That was probably why Keith finally relented to Lance’s whining.

Luckily for him, the only people who showed up were their friends. Although they seemed surprised that Keith was sitting in the beanbag, they didn’t tease too much.

“So you finally get to sit in the beanbag,” Hunk said, grinning, as he and Pidge slouched into the sofa beside him.

Lance matched his grin. “Yep.” He patted Keith’s hand. “He gave into my charms eventually.”

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Uh huh.”

Practically everyone knew that Lance had pined after Keith for months before Keith actually noticed him. It was a bit embarrassing, actually. Keith wasn’t very socially adept, and he hadn’t had many friends back then, but eventually he cottoned on. It was a surprise to find out that he liked Lance too, even if it was from afar. Although it had taken a while, they eventually started dating. They’d been friends first, but when they were around one another they were very competitive and riled up, so that hadn’t lasted long.

Lance thought they worked well together. They made a good team.

Keith, with a noticeable amount of pride, tended to agree with him on that.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” Shiro said, a furrow in his brow. He was leaning against the arm of the sofa where Allura was sitting, one of her arms resting across his legs. 

“It’s comfortable,” Keith stated, shrugging. Lance pressed closer to him, pleased that Keith wasn’t shying away from him. He was becoming more and more comfortable showing affection to Lance around their friends and it delighted him to no end. 

Casual conversation continued to move amongst them. Lance settled back against Keith, and Keith went back to quietly reading his book, and everything felt comfortable and familiar.

It was nice. Really nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to SMASH in Sydney tomorrow, so this is a little short!


	24. Lance/Shiro - Infinitely

Shiro was finding that, sometimes, waking up wasn’t really a chore. He didn’t dread it, and didn’t find himself desperately wishing for just one more hour of peaceful sleep. 

He attributed that change in his attitude almost entirely to Lance.

It wasn’t like Lance enjoyed mornings, or anything. Actually, he didn’t really like them at all. He liked sleeping in, liked the way mornings left him feeling refreshed and warm, all tucked beneath his blankets. Or so he’d said, anyway.

Shiro liked waking up to Lance. He found that a few things would happen, depending on the time and the day. Most of the time Lance would still be asleep, his cheek crushed to his pillow, eye-mask askew. He looked like he was ready to sleep for another eight hours when he was so deep under like that. There was always a lot to be admired in the architect of his hair after a decent night’s sleep. 

On the rarer occasion, Lance would wake before Shiro. Sometimes he’d be humming to himself in the bathroom, and his sweet voice would gently lure Shiro from sleep. Sometimes he’d still be in bed, but have one arm tucked under his cheek, his fingers slowly coaxing tangles from Shiro’s hair. He liked waking up like that. Sometimes Lance would take himself downstairs and shut their bedroom door so that Shiro could catch a few more hours of sleep in the morning.

He had a particular fondness for those mornings.

Waking up alone was sometimes a little disorienting, though Shiro was never particularly worried – he’d long since grown used to Lance’s company, and knew his lovely boyfriend would never be too far. When he was conscious enough, he’d always wander downstairs to see what Lance was up to. Sometimes he’d find Lance reading on the couch, with the television turned down low, or sometimes he’d be quietly cooking in the kitchen, listening to the radio they had perched on the windowsill. 

He’d never really given much thought to waking up with a partner someday. Mornings had been a bit of a struggle for him after he’d lost his arm, even though he continued to go for early morning jogs as regularly as he could. He hated hearing the sound of his alarm, and hadn’t liked it when light pierced through his curtains to disturb him. But waking up to Lance’s voice, or opening his eyes to find Lance next to him… that was better. Infinitely better. 

It seemed impossible that Shiro could feel so content just being with Lance. Every smile made him stop and pause, and every little considerate thing Lance did for him – like letting him sleep in during the morning – made him appreciate Lance more and more. He liked feeling pampered by Lance, liked letting Lance be as affectionate with him as he wanted. It was an addicting feeling.

He hoped that Lance felt just as pampered and cared for in return.

After all, his entire heart was in Lance’s hands.


	25. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Unconventional

Lance had resigned himself to the fact that he probably couldn’t attract the eye of an alpha as amazing as Shiro, or one as fiery as Keith. They probably could have had any alpha, omega, or beta they wanted, and why would they want him? He was annoying and loud, and even if he thought he was fairly attractive (he put a lot of effort into his skin and hair routines!) it didn’t mean that he would be appealing as an omega to them.

When the truth of the matter proved to be the very opposite, Lance was surprised, but not as surprised as Shiro and Keith.

It wasn’t uncommon for triads to form instead of pairs, and that was what they were slowly working towards. Shiro had been the first to ask Lance to court, which surprised Lance, considering how bashful and respectful Shiro secretly was under his strict exterior. It had been strange thinking that Shiro was interested in him enough to approach him first, and it had taken a while for Lance to… accept it. 

But Shiro was very convincing when it came to proving that he liked Lance. He could be quite charming when he wanted to be.

Keith was… less so.

Lance couldn’t really understand what Keith was feeling when he found out Shiro and Lance were courting. They kept it quiet for a little while, but it was hard to hide Shiro’s scent all over Lance. Keith probably hadn’t wanted to get in the way, or maybe thought that he’d lost his chance – these were the things Lance thought in hindsight. 

For a little while, in between being courted by Shiro and being courted by both alphas, there was a time when Lance didn’t really think about how he was drawn to both of them. He didn’t want to feel selfish, and worried that Keith didn’t like him anyway. It didn’t make him like Shiro any less, but he’d always been the type to want and enjoy a big family, so forming a triad was something he would have liked.

In the end, he and Shiro were the ones to approach Keith.

That only happened because Lance noticed that Shiro was keeping a closer eye on Keith than usual. Sometimes alphas got like that when they thought another alpha was trying to grab the attention of the person they were courting, but it hadn’t felt like that to Lance. Instead, it was more like Shiro just… knew that Keith was meant to be with them. Shiro’s leadership instincts were more than what Lance expected them to be, in the very best possible way. He was hardwired to protect and serve his pack, more so than any other alpha Lance had met. 

It culminated in Shiro being very protective, and very attuned to the needs of those around him. He could probably sense that Lance thought Keith would be a good addition to their little “starter” pack. And, as it turned out, Shiro shared the same opinion. Liking Keith didn’t make them like each other any less, and when they actually sat down and talked about it, it was like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders.

Off Keith’s too, when together they asked to court him.

Now they were a triad. Keith hadn’t wasted any time hesitating when he agreed to accept their courtship, betraying his eagerness despite his serious expression. He wasn’t very affectionate by nature, but he could be plied with some coaxing and gentle teasing. Keith was surprisingly easy to embarrass, and with someone like Lance who flirted constantly, and someone like Shiro who would give earnest and delightful compliments like it was nothing, he had no chance of staying aloof.

Besides, it’s not like he needed to hide anything that he was feeling from them anyway. It took a bit, but eventually he became comfortable with the compliments, even if it still left him a little red. 

The way they came together might have been a little unconventional, but it didn’t make their connection any less profound. Some people were just mean to be together, rain or shine, and Lance had no doubt that that was true for them.


	26. Keith/Lance - Stagnation

Lance was sad and Keith didn’t know why.

He knew that realistically, everyone got a little sad sometimes. It was just a part of being human – at least that’s what everyone would always say. Keith didn’t like seeing his boyfriend upset, especially when he didn’t know how to fix the problem. He wasn’t good at working with emotions, and always fumbled to understand when Lance went through times like this, but he wanted to be a good boyfriend, and he wanted to make Lance feel better.

And, generally, making Lance feel good was something he was actually decent at.

Over the years they’d been together, Keith had come to realise that physical affection was the key to a happy Lance. He himself wasn’t very big on it, but if it was from Lance… well, that was another story altogether. Lance had taught him how to express himself through touch, and he frequently initiated it first now. He liked holding hands with Lance, and liked to put his arms around Lance’s waist.

He found that physical contact helped alleviate some of Lance’s tension. That evening, when Lance was busy sulking on the sofa, Keith decided to join him. He pulled aside Lance’s collection of blankets and squeezed himself in, trying to find his boyfriend through all the fabric. It wasn’t quite dinner time yet, so he knew they had some time to relax on the couch before they had to get up and do things.

Lance grumbled and made protesting noises, but he was too withdrawn into himself to really fight Keith off. When Keith finally had Lance pulled against him, Lance melted. He crushed his cheek against Keith’s chest and let himself go boneless, leaning almost all of his weight against Keith. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Words weren’t always his strong point and this situation didn’t call for them.

He’d learned a lot of things about communicating with others after he’d started dating Lance. It had always been a struggle for him to connect, and he’d found himself very combative and awkward because of that, but Lance made things easier. He was very competitive with Keith, but very understanding of his emotional stagnation. He could read Keith so easily that it surprised him.

It made loving Lance very easy, Keith thought. Having someone who knew him on so many levels – both physically and emotionally – took a lot of the pressure off Keith’s shoulders when it came to socialising. Lance could sense what Keith wanted to express sometimes before Keith even knew what that was himself, and he was very willing to help Keith figure out how to work through any walls he had up. Although they hadn’t always gotten along, especially not when they’d first met, Keith couldn’t imagine his life without Lance in it. 

Being without him would make the world very bleak.

That’s why he did all he could to cheer Lance up. He couldn’t read Lance as well as Lance could read him, but he was learning to. He’d grown so used to Lance’s cheerful personality taking up all the space in the room that without it, the emptiness was stark and startling. He much preferred it when Lance was his usual self, and some quiet cuddling usually helped with that.

By the time they had to get up, Lance was looking a little less weary, a little less exhausted by the world. His sadness wouldn’t disappear instantly, but if Keith could do anything to lessen it, even just a little, then he would.

Lance deserved all the happiness in the world.


	27. Lance/Shiro - Expected

Lance met his soulmate when he least expected it.

That’s how it meant for most people, he thought. Meeting one’s soulmate wasn’t something that could be forced, or highly anticipated to the point where one tried to plan every detail. Fate couldn’t be decided by them, after all. It had to happen on its own, as that was meant to make it feel more authentic, more real.

In the end, Lance liked how it happened. Even if he had been frazzled and busy, and certainly not as cleanly dressed as he would have liked, it was still perfect in his eyes.

He hadn’t expected to meet Shiro that day. If he had, he probably would have worn a nicer shirt, or at least tried to tackle his hair. It was raining, and the humidity in the air meant his hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up in every direction. His train had been delayed because of the poor weather and he’d accidentally left his umbrella behind, so he’d had to walk to work trying to avoid the wet as best as he could, which was no easy task.

It was true to say that he hadn’t been thinking about the whole soulmate deal as he tried to navigate the rain. He was sure that was why they’d met that day, because neither one of them had ever expected it.

Not only had it been rainy that morning, but it had been quite windy, too. They’d been walking down the street in opposite directions – sometimes Lance wondered how many times they’d walked right past one another without noticing, if at all. In any case, the wind had suddenly picked up, and Shiro’s black umbrella had been jerked right out of his hands. It had smacked into Lance, who’d let out a surprised grunt as he found himself suddenly having to wrestle with a wet, wayward umbrella.

He still thought about the moment they’d met fondly, even if he’d ended up with a wet shirt because of it. Shiro had been so flustered and apologetic; his sweet nature contrasted with his handsome, angular looks in a way that Lance found very appealing. At a first glance, Lance hadn’t expected such a big, strong man to be so gentle and easily embarrassed. Despite Shiro’s calm, responsible demeanour, he was actually a big softie on the inside, and that delighted Lance to no end.

He’d been so relieved when Shiro had said he’d been very eagerly awaiting the day he’d meet his soulmate, just like Lance had been. 

It turned out that they didn’t work or live that far from one another, so Lance hardly had a chance to miss him before he’d seen Shiro again. He’d always believed in the idea of there being someone out there who was perfect for him, and meeting Shiro only solidified that.

After all, he thought Shiro was perfect, even with his flaws. And despite Lance’s flaws, Shiro treasured him. What more could he have wished for?


	28. Keith/Lance - Blind

Keith was convinced that he had the prettiest boyfriend in the world, and anyone who thought otherwise was either blind or had no taste. What wasn’t there to like about Lance? He had soft hair and a cute little nose and startlingly blue eyes. Keith loved the freckles he got on his nose, cheeks, and shoulders when he was in the sun for too long, and the way his knuckles on his hands protruded in a boyish, pleasing-to-the-eye sort of way.

He had to admit, he hadn’t always thought Lance was so handsome. He wasn’t good with… people in general, actually. Socialising was a bit of a challenge and he didn’t easily make friends, so he and Lance hadn’t gotten along at first. That was in the past, though, and now they’d been together for a while. As it turned out, their competitive natures made them quite a good match.

As with most people, Lance had slowly grown on him. Keith wasn’t sure if he found anyone attractive right off the bat – he had to get to know them first. If asked, he’d say that Allura was pretty, and that Pidge had an appealing, tomboyish air to her, and that Shiro and Hunk were handsome. But Lance was beautiful, no questions asked. Keith found him incredibly attractive.

That’s why he was a little puzzled when other people didn’t. 

It had happened a few times, now – people expressing surprise that Keith was dating “someone like Lance”. He didn’t get it at all. He supposed a lot of people would mistake his antisocial nature for quietness, so pairing him with someone as loud as Lance might have seemed strange, but anyone who knew them knew they were very compatible. 

Lance often told him that he was handsome, especially on a superficial level to strangers. Keith wondered if people were surprised that someone with his looks – though he didn’t think they were all that special – would date someone with Lance’s looks. Were they compatible from the outside? He thought they were, but he didn’t understand how others thought.

All he knew was that he got strangely offended when people thought he was more attractive than Lance.

After all, hadn’t they _seen_ his boyfriend? Those blue eyes? That dark, smooth skin?

One afternoon, when they were out, Keith and Lance had picked up cold drinks from a coffee shop and were walking down towards the beach when a group of girls stopped them. Lance was always very friendly with strangers, but they didn’t seem interested in him. Rather, they directed their questions at Keith, who awkwardly hovered by Lance’s shoulder, unsure what to do or say. Out of the two of them, Lance was the social butterfly, not him.

“We could totally join you guys down at the beach,” one of the girls suggested, pointedly nudging her friend in the side with her elbow. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The friend glanced at Keith, her face reddening. Keith felt Lance stiffen beside him, and watched the smile on his boyfriend’s face turn a little forced. It took Keith a moment to realise what was happening, and once again he was perplexed. Why would anyone pay attention to him when Lance was standing right there?

And because Lance wasn’t going to be mean to strangers, Keith spoke up.

“Sorry, but my boyfriend is taking me on a date,” he said, reaching for Lance’s hand. His palm was wet with condensation from his drink but that didn’t stop Keith from twining their fingers together. He gave the strangers an apologetic look, inching closer to Lance. “This one is all mine.”

Lance spluttered, face going red, but Keith ushered him along before he could complain about Keith’s behaviour. “They weren’t interested in me,” Lance eventually managed to say.

“That’s because they have no common sense,” Keith muttered, tightening his grip on Lance’s hand. “I’m not even interesting.”

“I think you’re interesting,” Lance said.

Keith gave him a small smile. He pulled Lance closer, putting his arm around Lance’s shoulders instead, wanting everyone to know that he was the one who had the pleasure of dating Lance, of being the one Lance paid special attention to. Not many people would think he was interesting, but Lance had a confidence-boosting habit of complimenting anyone on anything they perceived as a fault. That was something entirely due to the fact that Lance believed in what he was saying, every word of it. Keith had never known there were people as open-minded and as openly-affectionate as Lance in the world.

Anyone who was blind enough not to see all of Lance’s merits was missing out big time. But in the end, it meant he got to enjoy every bit of Lance all for himself, and what was there to complain about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love smitten Keith.


	29. Keith/Lance - Notes

Keith glanced up, eyes finding Lance across the lecture hall. Lance was looking forwards, a slight furrow in his brow as he scanned the board ahead before he looked back down at his notebook. He was wearing a turtleneck again today, and had taken his jacket off when he sat down, baring the shape of his arms and shoulders to Keith’s eyes.

He looked away before anyone caught him staring.

The lecturer continued to drone on as Keith carefully pencilled in the shape of Lance’s eyebrows. He was sitting at the back of the lecture theatre so no one was around to pry at his book, where he clearly wasn’t taking down notes like he should have been. 

Ever since he was little he’d always needed to do something with his hands. He was restless and didn’t like sitting still, and drawing was the easiest way to keep himself occupying. He wasn’t great at it, but he’d done so much of it that he thought he was at least decent. 

(He doubted any artist would be able to capture all of Lance’s attractiveness in one picture, but that was another story altogether.)

He hoped that secretly drawing Lance – a lot – wasn’t creepy. Socialising wasn’t a strong point of his, and although he’d never really found himself interested in people beyond what a friendship entailed, that had changed when he’d met Lance. Ever since they’d started to get along and hang out more Keith had been feeling… things. Things he didn’t really know how to describe or name.

Things that made him want to draw Lance all the time, especially when Lance wasn’t looking.

He’d never tell anyone about those feelings, though. They felt too private, too intimate, like admitting them would make him vulnerable, and he didn’t want to be that way. Besides, he doubted Lance would ever return those feelings to him. He didn’t even think Lance found him attractive; not because of his gender, because Lance was proudly bisexual, but because Lance always complained about the “unfortunate” style of Keith’s hair.

Fashion was also not a strong point of his.

The lecture continued. Keith’s staring continued. Lance continued to live on in complete obliviousness, which was exactly how Keith wanted it to be. He wasn’t often attracted to people, but he thought Lance was really handsome. He had these really intense blue eyes, and he was admittedly a little vain, which led to his skin being smooth and near flawless. If Keith hadn’t already known he was gay, he was pretty sure one look at Lance would have helped him figure it out.

When his current drawing was finished, Keith flipped back a few pages, wincing in embarrassment at the sheer number of drawings he’d done lately. He was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on things that weren’t Lance when Lance was in his line of sight, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

In either case, he would make sure these drawings never saw the light of day. He’d be completely mortified if anyone found out about them, especially Lance. None of his friends knew that he liked to draw, and he wanted to keep it that way. It was the same for his weird crush on Lance. He didn’t even know why that had cropped up, and yet there he was, pining away. 

He could only imagine how much Lance would tease him if he ever found out.

(If he did find out, would he return Keith’s feelings?)

Sighing, he shut his workbook. He wouldn’t be taking down notes that day anyway.


	30. Keith/Lance - Bonus

Keith fanned himself with the front of his shirt, using his teeth to pull his glove off his free hand. He spent most mornings in the gym, getting in his workout when he knew he’d be too tired in the afternoon to do it. Working out in the morning served as a way to wake him up properly, and as a way to get his body and mind ready for the day ahead.

As he wandered back into the common room, the scent of Lance slowly reached his nose. His omega mate did not like mornings at all, and took a lot of time to wake up. Lance valued his self-appearance a lot, so he always took care to groom himself well – moisturise his skin, brush his hair, that sort of thing. Keith didn’t really understand it all but Lance liked his beauty routines so he wasn’t going to say anything about it.

Besides, a morning Lance was an easy to tease Lance, and Keith did like teasing Lance when he could manage to do so.

Expectedly, he found Lance chatting to Hunk in the kitchen. They were both waiting for the kettle to boil, and it looks like Hunk was making a big breakfast for their little friend-pack, something the kind beta often did. Hunk was rather good at cooking, and his talents were very appreciated amongst them all.

While he still could, Keith snuck up on Lance, pulling him into a surprise hug. “Good morning,” he rumbled, pressing his face against the side of Lance’s head as he smelt Lance’s scent turn warm and welcoming. 

“Morning,” Lance replied, grinning. He had the prettiest smile, and Keith was sure he’d never get used to seeing it, especially not first thing in the morning, because he didn’t like waking Lance when he first got up to head down to the gym.

While he could, he also nuzzled Lance’s head, messing up the carefully brushed strands. Lance didn’t notice that Keith was messing up his appearance, instead giving him a comforting pat on the hand as if to reassure him of something. Keith scent Lance’s hair until it looked like he hadn’t done anything to it since waking up.

“I’ll see you after I shower,” Keith said, reluctantly pulling away when he was sure Lance was covered in his scent. He didn’t want to get Lance too sweaty, but seeing his perfectly groomed mate looking a little dishevelled, all because of him… well, it was a pleasing sight to see.

Lance didn’t notice that his hair was sticking up in all different directions until Keith was well down the hallway. Lance’s indignant, but still somehow fond shout followed him, and made him grin to himself. He’d had a morning well spent, he thought. Waking up and knowing Lance was there with him made everything a little easier.

And teasing him while he was distracted by Keith’s scent and the sight of his arms in his workout gear was certainly a bonus.


	31. Shiro/Lance - Comfort

Lance could tell when Shiro hadn’t come to bed until hours after he’d fallen asleep.

His stubborn alpha had a habit of trying to hide when he was struggling, and it saddened Lance a little. He knew that Shiro was only thinking of Lance’s comfort and wellbeing, but Lance would rather have a sleepless night than know Shiro was suffering by himself.

Sometimes, Shiro still had nightmares. He’d long since recovered from his accident, but phantom pains still plagued his amputation site, and sometimes it was so bad he couldn’t sleep. He’d admitted to Lance in the past that it made him feel like less of an alpha, that showing such vulnerability made him feel weak. Lance didn’t see it that way, of course he didn’t, but sometimes those doubts got all tangled up in Shiro’s head.

When he didn’t go to bed at the same time as Lance, he knew something was up. Shiro went to bed early and rose early; he liked to jog in the mornings, and only slept in when Lance convinced him to. Going to sleep alone was a strange and uncommon occurrence for Lance.

That evening, Lance found himself restlessly tossing and turning, wondering when Shiro was going to call it a night. He could sense that his alpha had been uneasy all evening, could smell the subtle changes in his scent that meant he was unhappy. They’d shared a quiet evening, and Shiro had hardly been able to eat at dinner. When Lance had retired to bed, Shiro had remained downstairs, looking both lost and upset. Lance had hoped that maybe some quiet time to think would settle his thoughts, but it clearly hadn’t. 

A protective feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach. Lance crept out of bed, slipping his slippers on before he headed back downstairs. It was dark, except for one of the lamps in the lounge room. He found Shiro slumped on the couch, rolled up in a blanket. He was staring off into space without really seeing anything.

“Shiro…?”

The alpha startled, glancing at him. His eyes were glassed over, but they cleared after he blinked several times. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No.” Lance sat on the edge of the couch, and gently placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder over the blanket. “Are you alright?”

Shiro didn’t answer, glancing away.

Lance carefully kept his face neutral. He supposed he was lucky that he was good at navigating emotional situations, that he knew Shiro well enough to know how to care for him when he was like this. He nudged Shiro over a little, fitting himself between Shiro and the edge of the couch. He put his arm around Shiro’s waist and pressed their knees together, testing the waters. When Shiro didn’t flinch away, he nuzzled their noses.

Slowly, tension left Shiro. “You can go back to bed,” he said quietly.

“I like laying with you,” Lance said back. He knew Shiro was only trying to make Lance comfortable, that he didn’t like the idea of his omega having to suffer in the same way he was, but it wasn’t like that for Lance. He would give anything to make Shiro happy, and if sacrificing a little sleep and comfort meant that Shiro felt even a little bit better, then he would do it.

Shiro pulled him a little closer. It was a good sign. He wasn’t wearing his prosthetic, and the arm he had around Lance was under Lance’s head, but he didn’t complain about getting pins and needles. He breathed in Lance’s scent, and Lance did his best to project safety and warmth, knowing that it would sooth his alpha.

They stayed like that for a little while. Shiro’s breathing evened out, but he didn’t fall asleep. He got that distant look in his eyes again, but his scent wasn’t as worrying as before. Lance felt his eyes droop as they often did when he laid with Shiro. Being with his alpha filled him with a sense of happiness that was completely unrivalled. He knew that Shiro knew that, but doubts still plagued him sometimes when he got too caught up in himself. Lance was sure to remind Shiro of just how wonderful he was every chance he got.

When Shiro finally started to seem sleepy, Lance lifted a hand to cup his face, gently pressing his fingertips to Shiro’s cheek. “You want to go to bed now?”

Shiro nodded, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment.

Lance untangled himself and stretched, muffling a yawn. He waited for Shiro to stand before shuffling back upstairs. Shiro took himself straight to bed, but Lance waited, taking his slippers off as he watched Shiro make himself comfortable. He was favouring his left side, keeping pressure off his amputation site, so Lance wandered to the other side of the bed. When he was sure Shiro was comfortable, he joined him, making sure not to jostle his alpha too much.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. He inched a little closer, and Lance took the invitation, moulding himself against Shiro’s chest. He put his arm around Shiro’s waist again, bumping his head against Shiro’s chin.

“I love you,” Lance whispered. 

“I love you too,” Shiro croaked. He sounded teary, but Lance knew he just needed to get it out. He let his scent overflow, enveloping Shiro in comfort, doing the things he knew would reassure his alpha. 

“It’s okay.” Lance put his hand on Shiro’s bare hip, pushing his shirt out of the way to draw circles. “It’s okay, Shiro.”

Shiro let out a ragged, watery breath, but again didn’t say anything. Lance continued to comfort him until he was fast asleep, knowing that if he stopped Shiro might wake up again. When his sweet alpha was finally deeply asleep, Lance let himself rest, too.

 

Morning came, waking up Lance with white sunlight that fell through the gap in the curtains. He stretched and yawned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Shiro was lying on his back beside him, looking thoroughly exhausted. Lance watched him for a moment, taking a delicate sniff of his scent. He doubted Shiro would wake up for a while yet, so he got out of bed, and went about his morning.

After showering, feeding their cat, watering their little kitchen windowsill garden, and making a light breakfast for two, Lance went up to see how Shiro was doing. Shaking off his worry was proving to be harder than expected.

Shiro hadn’t moved since Lance had left him, except to turn his head towards Lance’s vacant half of the bed. Tears sat clustered on his eyelashes, and his brow had gained a slight furrow.

Leaning over the edge of the bed, Lance pressed his lips to Shiro’s forehead. He lingered for a moment, and when he pulled away, Shiro’s eyes were open.

“Good morning,” Lance said.

Shiro put his hand on the back of Lance’s neck, his thumb rubbing over Lance’s skin. “Sometimes I wake up and I think you won’t be here anymore,” he admitted, voice gravelly with sleep.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lance promised. 

A faint smile twitched at Shiro’s lips. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

“You were just yourself,” Lance said, bending to kiss Shiro’s forehead again. “That’s all.”

Shiro sighed. He sounded weak and relieved, but not upset. “You deserve the world, Lance.”

“I’m looking at it.”

Shiro flushed.

“I made breakfast, if you’re hungry.”

“Alright.” Shiro sat up, rolling his shoulders. It didn’t seem to pain him as much as it had the previous night. “Breakfast sounds good.”

“I just made something light, but if you’re still hungry, I’ll make more.”

“I love you Lance,” Shiro said. “So much.”

Lance smiled. “I love you too.”


	32. Keith/Lance - Perspective

Lance yawned as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, sitting upright in bed. There was a chill in the air and he groaned at the thought of spending another day shivering when he could go back to sleep and be all warm and toasty beneath his blankets. He much preferred summer to winter.

Kicking off the sheets, he set about doing his morning routine. At least it was the weekend, he thought. At least he hadn’t woken up to the sound of his alarm ringing. Besides, this was going to be a good day. Keith would finally be home from his work trip and Lance wouldn’t have to go to bed alone anymore.

This was the first time they’d been separated for so long in a while. It was something he thought about as he made breakfast for himself after turning on the heater in the living room. He and Keith had gone to the same school, but they hadn’t really spoken until university. Keith hadn’t even noticed him back then. Still, they’d been together pretty much every day and not much had changed since then. It had been the opposite, actually – they started hanging out more once university began, and then they started dating.

He supposed separation was good every once in a while, that it gave them a chance for some alone time, but… well, he didn’t like it. As much as he and Keith bickered, he did actually like Keith’s company, and not having him around for two weeks made the house feel lonely. Not even daily phone calls and constant texting could do much to alleviate that. Lance was used to living with a lot of people so to be on his own was strange and quiet.

But that would be over soon, so he didn’t have anything to worry about. Keith would be driving back that afternoon, and be home in time for dinner and some much needed cuddling on the couch.

At least this time to himself had put a lot of things into perspective for Lance, especially when it came to their relationship. Being without Keith made Lance realise just how much he wanted him around all the time. Absence made the heart grow fonder, after all, and Lance’s had grown very fond all on its lonesome. He almost felt like a pining teenager again. Absentmindedly, he blew at the hot steam rising from his tea, wishing time would somehow move faster.

He wanted to see Keith again. It was a fierce yearning, something that couldn’t be sated over the phone. Two weeks had never felt longer. It felt impossible that he could love someone as much as he loved Keith, but his heart would fiercely disagree.

Quietly, he reached into one of the kitchen drawers, searching for something. He found it – a little velvet box nestled amongst a stack of tea towels where Keith would never think to look – and smiled to himself.

Lots of things had been put into perspective, indeed.


	33. Keith/Lance - Captive

Keith twisted his dagger around, tightening his fingers around its hilt. He glanced past the corner of the brick building he had his shoulder pressed against, keen eyes watching as a group of poachers ambled out of a nearby inn. Their latest catch was about to bag them so much money that they’d spent it all in advance, purging on alcohol and food, much to the delight of the innkeeper. 

It sickened Keith to see them act so brazen, knowing what they’d done, what they planned to do in the future.

But it was no matter to him. Their intoxication would work in his favour. A drunk target was far easier to overpower than someone with all their inhibitions and a sense of balance.

When their rowdy voices disappeared down the street, he edged around the corner of the building and followed them. He knew where their camp was, but not where they were hiding the captive. Following them when they had absolutely zero chance of noticing him was his best gamble at finding the captive quickly and easily. This was a game he’d played dozens of times before.

The drunk poachers headed out into the forest, close to where their camp was. The trees became thicker out here, but that was good for him; it meant it was easier to hide. Eventually they came to where the poachers had dumped the captive, still tied up inside a metal cage, his wings and mouth bound by rope and dirty rags.

Keith had never seen a fey like this one before. Fey in this part of the country where normally of the earth or nature variety, or like him – born of fire, towards the crescent of volcanoes that separated the grassy plains from the mountains and forests. Water fey were incredibly rare, which was probably why this one was so sought after. And Keith could see his appeal – he was beautiful. His wings were a translucent blue, shot through with blue veins and markings, and he had the bluest eyes Keith had ever seen. Combined with his dark skin and dark brown hair, he certainly made a pretty picture.

But seeing one of his own kind tied up like merchandise was angering. 

Keith twisted his blade around again. 

He would make this quick.

 

Getting through metal was no easy task, especially not when Keith realised that the poachers were so drunk they’d lost the keys to the locks. If they weren’t already unconscious, he would have knocked them out all over again.

“Just hold on, I’m gonna get you out,” he told the water fey as he crouched beside the cage. It was only tall enough for the fey to sit up in, and so cramped he had to keep his legs folded to his chest. Keith’s wings shuddered in indignation. 

Producing a flame in his hands, Keith pressed it to the bars of the cage. If he couldn’t unlock it, and he couldn’t cut through it, then he’d melt it. His flames were more than hot enough, and he had more than enough determination. 

Several long minutes elapsed as he worked on the bars. A sweat built on his brow as he worked. Metal dripped like candlewax to the dirt, and he was careful not to step in it. By the time a gap in the bars big enough for the fey to fit through had appeared, Keith feared that the poachers would wake up any moment. 

“Let’s go, hurry,” he urged, as he reached in to help the fey after shaking his hands to lower their temperature. The fey felt unnaturally cool to the touch, like a spring creek, and it surprised Keith. He’d never seen a water fey before, let alone been this close to one. He sliced through the fey’s bonds and removed his gag. “Can you stand?”

“My legs…” the fey croaked.

Keith winced. After spending who knows how long scrunched up in the cage, he should have known it would be impossible to move. Sheathing his blade, he turned his back to the fey. “Get on my back, I’ll carry you. We just need to go.”

The fey didn’t complain, even if Keith could sense his reluctance. They were about the same size, he thought, but the fey’s shoulders were slimmer than his; a body built for water versus a body built to withstand volcanic heat. 

Keith could manage. He grabbed the fey under his thighs and heaved him up. His weight wasn’t too much to bare. “Hold on tight, we need to get as far away as possible.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Ever heard of Altea?” It was a place for fey to be safe, to heal and to learn. There was no fear of poachers there, no need to look over their shoulders or hide their wings. Their children and their families could be safe under the protection and care of Altea’s royal family.

“My family is there,” the fey whispered, sounding exhausted. “I was supposed to meet them…”

“I’ll get you there,” Keith assured him. “What’s your name?”

“Lance.”

“I’m Keith.”

Lance let out a weak sound, his cheek dropping against Keith’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmured. 

Keith felt himself flush a little. He didn’t know why, but this fey felt… different to the others. The urge to protect him was greater, more intense. “I’ll keep you safe, Lance. I promise.”


	34. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Perks

There were some natural perks that came with being an omega, perks that Lance tried really hard to ignore for the sake of equality and fairness, but sometimes they just couldn’t be avoided. It’s not like he tried to take advantage of his alphas – at least not all the time, not when he knew he was pushing boundaries. And he was sure that his alphas would metaphorically put him in his place if he started to bother them. They’d certainly mention something if they felt taken advantage of.

But they hadn’t said anything. Rather, they seemed quite willing to bend to his whims, and more than happy to spoil him.

(Really, what more could he have wanted? He doubted anyone in the entire universe would have treated him as preciously as his alphas did, and it pleased him on every level imaginable. Not only as an omega, but as a person, too.)

Regardless, he sometimes knew that he went over the top with it a bit. Omegas were usually quite naturally alluring, with pleasing scents and friendly personalities. They tended to be the centre of groups and packs, often taking quite a mothering or nurturing role when it came to those they cared about. Gravitating towards omegas was a natural instinct. He supposed it was, therefore, only natural that he sometimes got away with things a non-omega perhaps wouldn’t have. Simple, harmless things of course, because it wasn’t like they were slaves to their second genders, but things that made Pidge roll their eyes and declare he was being “too coddled”. 

Stretching, Lance smothered a yawn into his hands. A relaxing evening spent in the common room had left everyone warm and sleepy, him included. His bones felt like they’d melted into the couch and it was a very pleasant sensation. Getting up to go to bed was something he very much didn’t want to do.

He glanced over at Shiro, who was standing from his pile of cushions on the floor, stretching his arms above his head. “Going to bed?”

“Yeah.” Shiro gave him a smile. He could probably smell how content Lance was. As one of Lance’s alphas, he was very in tune with Lance’s scent, and could sense deviations in it from quite far away. “You tired?”

Lance nodded, and lifted his arms up, putting on his best pleading look. “Carry me?”

A quiet laugh escaped Shiro. “I know those legs of yours work.”

“Please?”

As much as Shiro’s exterior showcased a strong, determined man, he was remarkably soft and weak-willed when it came to his mates. He relented rather quickly, though Lance knew from the smile on his face that it was an entirely willing submission. “Alright.”

“You’re babying him,” Pidge teased from across the room, their face illuminated by the screen clutched in their hands. 

“My ankle totally hurts,” Lance protested, pouting. They all knew it was a lie but that was what made it funny. “A bit.”

“I’ll carry you, then,” Keith said, as he appeared beside the couch. Lance had thought he’d fallen asleep halfway through the movie, but he might have been resting his eyes instead. Without another word, Keith lifted him up bridal style, his strong arms supporting Lance’s legs and back. His heady alpha scent overwhelmed Lance’s nose in the best way possible.

Lance grinned, pleased, and cuddled into Keith’s shoulder. Being carried around by his mates was rather satisfying, and at Pidge’s exaggerated eye roll, he stuck out his tongue. 

“I’ll come to bed with you two,” Shiro said, following after Keith as Keith carried Lance out of the common room. “Have to make sure you rest that ankle, after all.”

Lance’s laugh echoed down the corridor.

Sure, being an omega had some downsides. The cramps were awful and the amount of suppressants an omega had to take compared to an alpha was both ridiculous and expensive. But Lance was proud of his identity, and proud that it allowed him to be close to Keith and Shiro in the way he was. Their bonds as a triad were deep and powerful, and they always would be.

His little pack was perfect and he didn’t want it any other way.


	35. Keith/Lance - Words

Lance traced his fingertips over the words on Keith’s inner wrist, printed in his own stilted handwriting, as if he himself had taken a black pen and written them. He had no doubt the words would continue to embarrass him for the rest of eternity – the first words he’d ever said to his fated soulmate, printed there for anyone to see. Forever commemorated on Keith’s pale skin.

_Oh shit, you’re hot._

“That tickles…” Keith murmured, his eyes still closed.

“Deal with it.” Lance placed Keith’s arm back down on the sheets between them, giving it a gentle pat. “And go back to sleep.”

“Why are you awake?” Keith asked. “It’s early.”

That’s true. Lance notoriously disliked mornings, and valued his beauty sleep. He liked relaxing and sleeping in, and often convinced Keith to do with the same with him, when they had the time for it. Weekend mornings were not very productive times for them.

But Lance had just woken up, for some reason. It was light out now, faint blocks of sunlight coming in through their window. It made Keith look really handsome and could Lance really be blamed for staring? He hadn’t even been awake for long, only a few minutes, tops. Keith had an uncanny ability of waking up just as he did, as if he could sense when Lance’s brain came back online. 

“I’m going back to sleep,” Lance said, as he settled more comfortably against the sheets. “You should too.”

Keith hummed, already sounding half-asleep again. He burrowed his face into his pillow, let out a little huff of air, and was asleep, just like that. Lance knew he wasn’t far behind his soulmate, but he was still awake enough to think that little gesture of Keith’s was stupidly cute.

His eyes strayed to Keith’s wrist again, reading the words several times over. So embarrassing.

His own soulmate words were some he’d always disliked, before he heard them said. _Watch where you’re going._ They had seemed cruel and direct, and perhaps a little harsh, whenever he’d read them to himself. Like maybe his soulmate was going to push him out of the way, or barge past him. None of the situations he’d thought of had been very romantic.

But Keith surprised him.

As it turned out, Lance’s clumsiness was the cause of the words. He’d tripped over his own feet, or maybe a crack in the pavement, it was a little unclear. Keith had been walking the other direction, and he’d caught Lance by the arms, steadying him with a strength that had immediately flooded Lance with heat.

“Watch where you’re going,” he’d said. Straight and flat. Worried, and perhaps a little concerned that Lance was naturally clumsy. He’d looked Lance in the eyes when he’d said it and Lance hadn’t been able to look away.

“Oh shit, you’re hot,” Lance had choked out, because fate had decided to brand him (and, literally, Keith) with those words forever.

And that’d been that. 

They were soulmates.


	36. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Masks

“Hold still, Keith.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Trust me, you will,” Lance said, confident. He mixed the green mixture he used for face masks in a little bowl, enjoying the sweet, faint scent it gave off. “Your skin will thank me.”

Keith was clearly unconvinced. He scowled as Lance smeared the mixture on his face, using his thumbs and fingertips to rub it into Keith’s skin. It was probably a little cold, but Lance liked to think it was refreshing. He traced the planes and lines of Keith’s face as he covered every inch, taking care around Keith’s eyes, and around the corners of his lips, knowing he was extra sensitive there. Sure enough, when Lance reached his lips, Keith’s mouth twitched upwards into a half-smile he couldn’t hide.

“How’s that feel?” Lance asked, as he leaned back, setting the bowl aside.

“Weird,” Keith said. “Sort of sticky.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you be all docile and sweet like Shiro over there?”

Shiro gave them a sheepish smile from the other couch. He already had his face mask applied, and had been more than ready to let Lance do whatever he wanted when Lance had asked about a pampering day. This sort of thing didn’t bother Shiro much only because he had a big heart that was capable of dealing with Lance’s energy.

Nevertheless, Keith was amused by Lance’s little joke, and he remained quiet as Lance finished putting on the face mask. He did this sort of pampering to himself all the time, and he was happy his boyfriends were joining in. It was a chance to relax and unwind, to do nothing except sit with each other, and he was greatly enjoying it. He used to do this with his older sister all the time, even though he’d probably been an annoying little kid. 

This face mask mixture was actually one she’d learned from their grandmother, though she’d modified it a little, using more modern and natural ingredients. Not only did it smell good, but it exfoliated and nourished the skin, and it was very hydrating. In the current summer heat they were going through, hydration was key. Not to mention this mixture was pretty simple to clean up – only water was required. 

Just the smell of it reminded him of his family and he loved that.

Face masks applied, Lance ushered his boyfriends onto the same sofa, and sat in between them. While he waited for the face mask to do its job, he was going to buff and file their nails. That was probably not their thing, knowing his boyfriends, but Lance liked having neat nails and since they were indulging him…

But he secretly thought it was quite comforting. He knew that normally, neither Shiro nor Keith would probably do this for themselves. Both were handsome, but a beauty routine wasn’t something they had, other than washing their hair and shaving. Shiro sometimes put cream on his scars, but that didn’t count. 

Lance, on the other hand, had an extensive routine.

Sharing that little bit of himself was a very pleasant feeling. He was glad both of his boyfriends were happy to let him do as he wished. He knew a lot of other guys who wouldn’t touch a face mask mixture with a ten foot pole, no matter how good for their skin it proved to be. He liked knowing that he could make them feel pampered in a way that was familiar and special to him.

And besides, he had no doubts that they were going to love his face masks!


	37. Lance/Shiro - Polly

“I’m really sorry Shiro, I know this is a lot to ask of you–”

“Lance, it’s okay, really,” Shiro insisted, trying to muffle his amused laughter as he rummaged around the kitchen for the house keys. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s just that I know it’s your day off and you only just got back to town this weekend and it’s meant to be my responsibility–”

“Lance.”

“And I knew work would keep me back! Ugh, I should have said no, but I was meant to be finished by the time Polly needed to be picked up by–”

“Lance.”

“I’ve already called the day care, they know you’re coming to get her so you just need to show them I.D. You remember the way there, don't you? It’s not too long a walk? You know what, forget it, work can just deal without me–”

“Lance!”

There was sheepish silence from the other end of the phone.

“It’s okay, really,” Shiro repeated. He was laughing this time, unable to help himself. God, he loved Lance so much. “It’s just fifteen minutes, it’s not that far. As long as Polly doesn’t mind me coming to get her, then there’s no problem. You know you can’t leave the photoshoot now.”

“Right,” Lance admitted, sighing. “I should be home by four, four-thirty at the latest. Is that okay? You can handle her on your own until then?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Lance let out another sigh, a more relieved one this time. “I seriously can’t thank you enough, babe. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind. Polly likes me.”

“That she certainly does,” Lance chuckled. “Ring me if anything happens?”

“I will. Get back to work now, I know you’re busy.”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Hanging up, Shiro slipped his phone into his pocket, and finally located the house keys. Lance’s little six year-old sister was at day care after school, and today was one of Lance’s pick-up days. He helped out his parents by babysitting his sister when he had afternoons free from work, but today he’d been abruptly called into work. 

It was lucky that Shiro was home – he’d been away on a business trip for the past month and had arrived back just this weekend. He and Lance shared an apartment only a twenty minute drive from Lance’s parents’ house. His mother would probably come by to get Polly just before dinner time.

It had been a while since Shiro had seen Polly. A couple months, at least. Work and his recent business trip had kept him busy, and he had to admit he missed the little girl. She was very quiet and sweet, and had a heart of gold. He hoped she wouldn’t be too nervous to stay with him for a little while, at least until her favourite big brother (Lance) came home.

The day care was only a fifteen minute walk from the apartment, so Shiro walked there. Lance had borrowed his car that morning because his was at the mechanics for a check-up, but it wasn’t along walk, so he didn’t mind. 

Picking up Polly from the day care wasn’t too difficult. He’d been once before with Lance to drop her off before school, so the workers recognised him. After showing I.D. and signing the log list at the front counter, he picked up Polly and was on his way.

She was the cutest kid ever, he thought. She had the same dark skin and blue eyes as Lance, and today her hair was tied up in two little buns with white ribbons. Too adorable for words.

“How was your day?” he asked her, as he gently held her hand in his.

“Good,” she said, giving him a shy smile. “We learned lots of spelling today. I can spell lots of things!”

“Wow, that’s brilliant,” Shiro said, grinning. “Would you like me to carry your bag?”

She nodded so he shouldered her schoolbag, and then reached for her hand again. He must have made a strange picture – a man as tall and broad as he was, carrying a tiny pink schoolbag decorated with purple butterflies. “And did you have fun at recess?”

“Yeah! But it was hot today.”

“Was it?”

“So hot. I drank all of my water before lunch but Mrs Diaz let me fill it up at the bubblers so I was okay.”

“That’s good. How about we make some lemonade when we get home? Since it’s hot today.”

Her big blue eyes brightened. “Can we, Takashi?”

“Of course.” He was completely smitten by the way she said his name, like he was just as adored as Lance. Most people just called him Shiro, but Polly had once said his first name was pretty, and that she liked it better. 

“Can Lance bring home cookies from Uncle Hunk’s bakery today?” she asked, peering up at him with a pleading look.

God, a pout like that had him agreeing to anything. “How about this, you promise to do your homework when we get home, and I’ll ask Lance for cookies. Deal?”

She grinned, bright and honest, just like Lance. “Deal!”

Shiro laughed again.

When home, they made lemonade together – using Lance’s favourite recipe – and then he set her down to do her homework at their kitchen bench. He texted Lance about the cookies as promised and received a bunch of smiley faces in reply.

Having Polly around made Shiro wonder what it would be like to have children of his own one day. He and Lance had been together for almost four years now, and they’d discussed what they wanted in the future with each other a few times. Their interest aligned: they wanted to be married, and to have children. Two or three maybe, after seeing how things progressed. Nothing was set in stone, but it was reassuring to know that the man he loved wanted the same things for his future as Shiro himself did.

Lance arrived home around the time he’d said, cookies in tow. Polly had finished her homework by then, and was sitting with Shiro by the coffee table in the lounge room, drawing with crayons and pencils. She was quite the little artist.

“Lance!” she cried, excited by the sight of her brother. She abandoned her crayons to run at him, arms outstretched. 

“My little Polly Pocket!” Lance matched her enthusiasm word for word, swinging her up into the air. “How have you been? Not causing my dear Shiro too much trouble, are you?”

“No,” she said, indignant. “I love Shiro!”

Shiro couldn’t help but grin, face warm.

“Not as much as me,” Lance declared.

“No, more!”

Lance gasped. “No way!”

And thus the sibling arguing began. It was all affectionate, and it made Shiro happy to see. Lance had such a deep bond with his family. It was lovely to watch, and even lovelier to be involved in. There was something truly heart-warming about knowing he had the approval of the youngest member of the family.

The rest of their afternoon consisted of perfectly baked cookies, slightly watery lemonade, and a bunch of colouring. It was relaxing and domestic and everything Shiro wanted from life.


	38. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Birthday

Lance woke to the smell of burning food. He drifted through half-sleep for several moments, having brief flashes of burnt toast and overcooked sugar cookies in his dreams before his nose realised the smell wasn’t imagined. 

The source of the smell was Keith. Or, more accurately, the smell of Keith’s burning pancakes. Lance shuffled downstairs into the kitchen with a yawn on his lips and found his mate glaring into a frying pain, one hand fisted in his hair in frustration. There was a half-empty punnet of blueberries on the kitchen counter beside him, and he had a dirty apron tied lopsidedly around his waist. 

“Cooking was never your strong point,” Lance teased, his voice croaky with sleep.

Keith startled, his scowl falling away as he caught sight of Lance in the doorway. “You’re meant to still be asleep,” he said.

“I smelled burning.” 

“Nothing is burning.”

“Something is burning.”

“It really isn’t.”

“The frying pan is literally smoking right now.”

“What? Shit.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. Keith’s ears were red with embarrassment as he set aside the smoking pan, scooping out the charred remains of what looked like pancakes with a spatula. They joined a plate of equally blackened bits.

“Why do they keep burning so fast?” Keith muttered, sounding a little irritated. “The recipe said to cook them for longer.”

Seeing Keith trying to cook was unusual. Lance mostly did the cooking for them, or Shiro, though Shiro was currently away on a business trip. But Lance supposed today was a special occasion, so it wasn’t strange to think the alpha would try and spoil his omega with a nicely cooked breakfast. One way to an omega’s heart was through their stomach, after all. And alphas typically liked providing food for their mates; it satisfied a very primitive instinct in them.

“Let me help,” Lance said, easing his way in front of the stovetop beside Keith. “You’ve still got heaps of batter left, we can make more.” Truth be told, the batter looked a little thin, but if he watched the pancakes well enough he was sure they wouldn’t burn.

“They were meant to be for your birthday,” Keith mumbled, miserable. “You weren’t meant to cook.”

“You’ve done all the hard work anyway,” Lance told him, grinning, as he cleaned the pan of burnt flakes and spooned a new batch of batter into it.

Keith sighed, but he let Lance take over. He wrapped an arm low around Lance’s waist and pulled him closer in order to press a kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday.”

Lance smiled, leaning into Keith’s side. 

He’d always loved birthdays. Not just his own, but everyone’s. They were a big deal in his family, even though there were so many of them. Hardly a month went by without at least a handful of birthdays passing. There was something so energising about all the things birthdays entailed: a surprise party for the birthday person, a flurry of wrapping paper in all colours and patterns, a cake made specifically to the tastes of the person they were celebrating – and the celebration was the best bit. Good food, good music, good memories. 

This would be his first birthday without both of his mates since they’d made their bond official. Shiro hadn’t planned to be away for the past fortnight, but work had to take priority sometimes. Besides, Lance’s heat wasn’t for another month, so he could be away without putting Lance’s health at risk. Missing a birthday meant he’d just have to make up for it when he got home, right?

Except Lance was a little disappointed. He told himself not to be, that Shiro didn’t like being away just as much as Lance disliked being without him, but work had to take priority sometimes. He’d told himself that a dozen times, too. 

He just missed his mate, that was all.

He and Keith spent the morning gorging on blueberry pancakes and watching rom-coms, at Lance’s request. It was the only time he could get away with the cheesy movies. There was a family birthday dinner planned for that evening, one with just his immediate siblings, their mates, and his mates. Still a large number of people, but nothing compared to what the extended family was like. 

After breakfast, Keith dumped a handful of small, messily wrapped gifts into his lap. “They’re just little things from Shiro and I,” he said, as he settled on the couch beside Lance. “We’ll give our proper gifts to you when he’s back, so for now you can have these.”

Excitement buzzed in Lance’s veins. That was another good thing about birthdays: presents. Both giving and receiving them had always been a pleasure for him. He loved prying apart the wrapping paper to see what was inside just as much as he loved watching someone else do the same to a gift he’d given.

The little gifts proved to be things he loved, of course. There was a candle from his favourite store, and a box of sea-shell shaped chocolates, and a new leather-bound journal like the ones he used to scrapbook in. He loved everything. His happy, omega scent filled the air and made Keith look pleased. 

As much as birthdays were special, they didn’t negate the things that had to be done. He and Keith relaxed for a little while, but soon the washing and folding called Lance’s attention, and Keith had to clean the dishes from breakfast. It was a Saturday, so that meant it was time to clean the house from top to bottom, as they did every Saturday. Still, it was a better day than most. Keith would sneak up on Lance and press a kiss against his lips, or his cheek, or his nose, doing his best to surprise Lance. 

It was a good day, all in all. Keith took Lance out for lunch, having decided cooking for them was not something he should attempt. They bought food from a family owned takeaway store and walked down to the beach, a picnic blanket in tow. Lance had been inundated by well wishes from his family and friends all day so he took the time to answer and thank them as they ate. 

He was enjoying himself. He liked spending time with Keith, like being curled up with him on the sand, watching waves roll in and out. 

But he missed Shiro.

“I miss him too,” Keith whispered into his hair, like he could somehow read Lance’s mind. He nuzzled his nose against Lance’s check, scenting him. 

Lance only hummed, pressing a little closer. That was something he really valued about Keith, his ability to read Lance’s moods. He knew Keith wasn’t terribly skilled with social situations, but when it came to his mates, he was remarkably perceptive. 

He wasn’t sad. How could he be, when he’d been so pampered all day? But Shiro’s absence always affected him, always left him a little lonely. He always reeled in the morning when he woke up and only smelt two scents on their pillows. It was the same if Keith wasn’t around. 

Out of nowhere, Keith’s head perked up. He sniffed the air, frowning.

“Keith? What is it?” Lance did the same, glancing over their shoulders. 

He caught the scent before he saw the man.

For one moment, he thought his nose was betraying him, but there was no mistaking Shiro’s scent, or the white starlight-glow of his hair in the sunlight. He was walking down the boardwalk, dressed casually, carrying two gift bags – one blue, one red. When he spotted them, he lifted a hand and waved.

“Shiro?” Lance said, though it wasn’t directed at anyone. When his mind caught up with his eyes, a grin of his own split his face, and he and Keith scrambled to their feet. “Shiro!”

He was laughing by the time they collided with their alpha. Shiro wrapped them in his arms and scented them in turn, Lance first, rumbling his pleased little alpha rumble the entire time. 

“You weren’t meant to be back for another week,” Keith said. 

“Surprise.” Shiro was grinning. He kissed Lance’s forehead, fingers pressed against Lance’s waist. “Happy birthday.”

Lance could hardly contain his joy. “You’re back.”

“Couldn’t miss my sweet omega’s birthday, could I?”

He squeezed Shiro tightly.

At Shiro’s direction, they returned to the picnic blanket. Shiro sat with Lance between his outstretched legs and Keith on one side, pressed shoulder to shoulder with him. He gave them their gifts, saying, “I brought you something while I was away. Just something little – a sort of coming home present, I guess? But I wanted to bring you both something.”

Inside his gift bag, Lance found a little velvet box. Eyes wide, he opened it, and found a silver bangle resting inside. There was a round, blue charm hanging from it, one that looked like the colour of the sea, the colour of his eyes. He glanced at Keith and found the same bangle with a red charm, and a knowing glance at Shiro’s wrist produced another, but purple. The bangle itself was simple and faintly masculine in design, the gap wide enough to slip their wrists through. 

“I love it,” he said, beaming, as he put it on. “It’s so pretty.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Shiro kissed his forehead again, one arm around him. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too,” Keith said, as Lance nodded in agreement. “I tried to make pancakes this morning. It didn’t go well.”

Shiro perked a brow.

“The burnt smell woke me up,” Lance said.

Shiro tipped his head back and laughed. “Was it salvageable?”

“Yeah, it was. They were actually really nice!” Lance prodded Keith with his elbow, delighting in the way Keith’s cheeks went red. “The effort is what counts.”

“I’m glad you had a good morning.”

“You’re cooking tomorrow, though,” Keith declared. 

Shiro kissed Keith’s forehead, too. “I can do that.”

Lance really couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He couldn’t let go of his mates, either, one hand clutched in Shiro’s shirt, the one wrapped around Keith’s fingers. “This is the best birthday ever,” he said happily, to the laughter of his mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Lance ❤


	39. Lance/Shiro - Refreshed

Lance yawned as he finished putting the dishes away. It had been a long day, but finally everything had been moved to the new house. By the afternoon the last box and the last piece of furniture were in through the door, which gave him the rest of the day to set up the essentials for living.

Moving was difficult work, but essential. Their old apartment had been flooded when the one upstairs had suffered from a burst pipe, and there was no fixing it. He and Shiro had had to find a new place fast, which led to this house. For now they were renting, but Lance couldn’t mind owning this place one day.

It was a quaint little house. There was a decently sized backyard with a little half-built vegetable garden, once that Lance was more than willing to work on until it was up and running. The kitchen was spacious and the living room had an open floor plan, which was also something Lance liked – it made the rooms feel larger than they actually were.

For now, he would deal with all the boxes they had stacked everywhere. He had unpacked most of their kitchen boxes as well as done a quick run down to the grocery store to stock their fridge with the basics while Shiro unpacked the bathroom and stuff in the bedroom that they needed to sleep for the night.

It was sort of strange being in a new house, Lance thought. There were new sounds to get used to, new shadows, new creaks in the floorboards. He hadn’t moved since he started university and he moved into a dormitory, and that had been quite a few years ago now. The one thing that didn’t change was Shiro. His presence was comforting.

“Takeaway for dinner tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Lance replied, as he joined Shiro at the kitchen counter. Local pamphlets were spread out in front of him. “Bed all made?”

“Yep, pillows and everything,” Shiro grinned. He’d been a little unhappy about the sudden nature of their need to move – they’d had to replace some furniture because it was so water damaged by the untimely flood – but he liked the new house just as much as Lance did. And besides, having a new place and some new furniture sort of gave everything a refreshed vibe, and both he and Shiro were clearly enjoying that.

“How about Chinese?” Lance suggested, pointing at one pamphlet.

“I’m alright with anything.” Shiro scooped up the pamphlet and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Same as usual?”

“Same as usual.”

“Alright.” He leaned across the counter to press a quick, warm kiss to Lance’s cheek, before dialling the number on the pamphlet and wandering off into the lounge room to place their order.

Lance watched him go with a small smile on his face. New house, new vibes. Even if the move had been hard work, he had a feeling it would work out well in the end.


	40. Lance/Shiro - Shark

He knew he wasn’t meant to swim past the safety of the reef ridge, but the blue world out beyond the corals he called home was a temptation too great for him to ignore. His mother always told him that out of all of his brothers and sisters, he had the most adventurous heart. 

One day it would probably get him into trouble.

He always told himself that today would not be that day.

His shoal lived in relatively shallow waters, thriving off of the sunlight that broke through the surface to travel as many tail-lengths down as it could. They carved their homes out of large coral husks and dug tunnels and dens into the large rock structures reaching for the surface, the ones that corals grew on top of.

His species of mer didn’t migrate like others did. They needed warm water to survive, and here was one of the warmest places in the world. A massive current circulated warm water – and therefore migrating species of fish and mer alike – from their shoal location to other warm-water shoals, ensuring that food and clean water was always available. Lance was going to travel one day, going to visit other warm-water locations and maybe even some cooler ones, at least for a short while.

But for now he was content in his shoal. He was relatively young for their species, not even past his fiftieth summer. His tail and fins were still growing, his shoulders still broadening. Every day he became more and more like his older brothers and it filled him with a strong sense of pride. He wanted to be a respected member of the shoal and when he was big enough to actively work in the hunting pod or the protector’s pod, he would achieve that.

Still, for the time being, he was free to do as he wished. He trained as the other mers his age did, and explored to his heart’s content during his leisure time. 

Currently, that meant exploring past the reef ridge.

A sheer drop off led down to the sea floor. It was still relatively shallow, and there was still sunlight to guide his way, but it was too far down for corals to grow. Instead the sea bed was pale and sandy, and littered with rock protrusions. Further out there was a wooden skeleton of one of the human’s old vessels, where algae drew the attention of shoals of tiny silver fish and sharp-clawed crabs. It was quieter down here, where he could hear the silent pressure of the ocean.

He travelled out of the shadow of his shoal’s home and made his way past the wooden skeleton. It took some time, but reaching the migration point was always worth it. There, a second coral reef began – it was less colourful and variegated as the one his shoal lived with, more functional than tropical, but it was beautiful nonetheless. 

From here, at the edge of the seabed before a deeper drop off, Lance had a perfect view of the migratory currents. He perched himself down on a smooth rock surrounded by sand and swaying seaweed, folding his arms under his head. Spread out before him was a stunning view of the sea: in the near distance, the rushing cylinder of the ocean current marked a curling, arched path through the water. He could sense schools of fish and other larger sea creatures swimming by; lazy turtles drifted by overhead, swimming for the shore a short distance past Lance’s shoal, and just past the drop-off down in the darker waters he spotted a handful of sharks, likely following the fish that passed through a few moon cycles ago.

He wondered when the next mer shoal would migrate through. He loved seeing everyone’s different tails, learning their cultures, meeting their people. His shoal generally sported very decorative tails in a variety of flashy colours. His father had stunning yellow scales, his mother’s an alluring blue. He took after his mother, though his size came from his father. Like his mother, his fins also ended in lacy wisps, including the ones at his hips. He didn’t have fins going down his back, though a few of his siblings did, a trait inherited from their father. 

Other shoals had different shapes, different colours, different scale patterns. It was fascinating.

Lost in thought, Lance didn’t notice something approaching him until a shadow fell over his head.

Startled, he glanced up – 

– and immediately shrunk back down.

The mer above him was massive. Broad shouldered, broad-chested, with a tail almost twice the length of Lance’s. He didn’t have scales, but was sleek and muscled. He had black-tipped, pointed fins, similar fins at his hips with a second pair further down his tail, and one protruding from the top of his tail just beneath his hip joint. One of his arms was missing from just above the elbow, the skin heavily scarred. Lance had never seen a mer like this up close – they rarely lived in shoals and travelled almost constantly – but he knew exactly what he was just by sight alone.

Shark.

The shark tilted his head down at Lance, looking curious, and as surprised to see Lance as Lance was to see him. He twisted around with a surprising amount of flexibility, bringing their heads closer. “Hello there,” he said.

Lance’s heart raced. He wasn’t afraid to admit it: he loved sharks. Not the mers, but the animal. Well, probably the mers too – he was very social. But he loved watching sharks, and was good at interacting with them. It was incredibly uncommon for a shark to attack any sort of mer, so their relationship with the predator was one of mutual respect. He’d never met a shark mer, though. 

“Hello,” he choked out. He probably should have been more frightened than he was, but his traitorous mind was stuck on the fact that this mer was incredibly attractive. 

The shark gave him what could only be described as a shy smile. “I didn’t notice you there. What are you doing?”

Lance swallowed his nervousness, letting a smile touch his face. “Watching the migration.” Unable to help his curiosity, Lance pushed himself upright, swimming closer to the shark to get a better look at his tail. “You’re so big!”

The shark seemed startled by that. “You’re just small.”

Lance laughed. “I’m still growing!”

A small smile touched the shark’s face. “My name is Shiro.”

“Lance,” Lance grinned. He flashed his fins, the universal sign of greeting and interest. “I’ve never seen a mer like you before.”

“I could say the same,” Shiro told him. His eyes pointedly glanced over Lance’s tail, taking in the flash of his scales under the light coming in through the surface. “You’re very… blue.”

Lance laughed again, louder this time. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Shiro went a little red in the cheeks. It was a colour that suited him, Lance decided. He took a closer look at Shiro’s face, drifting closer. There was a thick scar running over the bridge of his nose, but it didn’t detract from his fine features. His hair was a shock of white, and his eyes were a warm brown, lighter than Lance expected them to be.

“Are you migrating?” Shiro asked.

Lance shook his head. “No, I live in a shoal. Have to stick to warmer waters, you know. What about you? Migrating?” 

“I prefer where it’s warmer,” Shiro told him. “I usually just follow the current, like the rest of my species. It’s hard to find a shoal of us, we get a little… competitive around one another.”

That aligned with what Lance knew about sharks. Something in their blood just rejected the idea of grouping together in large numbers, despite the fact that sharks could easily live with other shoals, if they chose to. 

“Is that how you got your scar…?” Lance drifted closer, reaching out a hand. Shiro flinched, but didn’t draw back as Lance ran his fingertips over the scar, mapping out its edges. He could see more on Shiro’s torso, and some intersecting his grey tail. That, combined with his missing arm, made Lance think he’d been in a lot of fights.

“Sort of,” Shiro said. “Some of them come from fights with my people. Some come from other monsters.”

Lance perked his brows. He was so curious, but he didn’t want to pry, so he dropped his hand. Instead he circled around Shiro again, delighted when Shiro held himself still for Lance’s perusal – a sign of interest. Even the way he tensed himself a little, highlighting the muscles in his tail, made Lance brim with energy. 

“Do you want a tour around the area?” Lance asked, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“That would be great,” Shiro said.

Pleased, Lance flashed his fins again, and reached for Shiro’s hand. He tugged Shiro along, marvelling at their sheer size difference – Shiro cast a shadow bigger than Lance himself. “Let’s go then!”


	41. Keith/Lance - Doze

Generally, Keith and grocery shopping did not get along. He was easily distracted by things, much to his frustration, and often forgot to buy something important. Sometimes he’d go in for two things and come out with ten, and other times he’d go in for ten but only remember two. It didn’t help that he wasn’t the one who usually did the cooking in the household – Lance was. Usually, Lance would do the grocery shopping, and take Keith with him to do the “heavy lifting”, as he called it.

But today he was on his own.

He told himself he just had a short list, it couldn’t be difficult. He’d made sure to write everything down because he didn’t want to forget something Lance needed. After all, Lance’s heat was coming up, and he hadn’t had time to get what he’d needed last time he want shopping. It was just a small list, anyway, because Lance usually wasn’t too fussy when he was on heat, as long as he had attention and company.

Still, Keith was careful to get everything he needed this time. Bottled water, protein bars target at omegas specifically for their heat, a packet of omega-specific cleaning wipes that were great for the skin and hands. Just a few things. It didn’t bother him that he got strange looks from others – some confused, others admiring. A lot of omegas liked it when their alphas would go out and get things for them without complaining, after all. Besides, Keith liked feeling like he was taking care of Lance. His omega was the most precious thing to him, after all.

At home, Keith took a cautionary sniff of the air, and was pleased to only smell his scent mingling with Lance’s. He would admit that he got a little protective during Lance’s heat, perhaps more than he should have, but it could sometimes be difficult to control himself when all he wanted to do was protect and satisfy Lance. 

The omega in question was currently nesting. He was a big nester, and usually stole all the nice fabrics in the house to make his nest – couch cushions, dish cloths, towels, sometimes even the curtains were taken down to be used. Keith was sure never to complain because he knew Lance would get upset if he thought his alpha didn’t like his nest. 

It was still early in Lance’s cycle, so not much was missing. The blankets from their bed and the decorative pillows from the lounge room were gone, but Keith wasn’t bothered. He peeked into the spare room and saw Lance buried in his pile of stolen fabrics, half-asleep, and smiled to himself a bit.

“Join me,” the sleepy omega mumbled, blinking at Keith owlishly.

“In a moment.” Keith was sure to put away all the groceries first. He knew where everything went according to Lance’s preferences, having spent a few heats with him now. Once he was sure Lance wouldn’t complain about anything further down the track, he took off his shoes and jacket, and went to join his omega in the nest.

That was one of his favourite things about Lance’s heat. He always made the best nests, and Keith never had any trouble falling asleep in them, despite the fact that he was a light and often restless sleeper. With Lance sprawled all over him, it was easy to sink into the warmth of the nest, breathing in the addicting scent of his omega. 

For now, he let Lance position him how he wanted, and settled in to doze. He had a peaceful afternoon ahead.


	42. Keith/Lance - Spark

Keith had always believed he wouldn’t ever be interested in a mate, that he’d never be able to deal with one person for all of his lengthy lifespan. It seemed strange to him that vampires mated for life, that there could be just one blood-scent out there so powerful and alluring to them that they found themselves unable to drink any other until a bond had been formed. He didn’t want to be so attached to one person that not even his thirst could distract him.

It didn’t help that he’d never really been interested in people. In relationships. In family.

That eventually changed, as everyone told him it would. The moment he caught Lance’s scent, he lost all of his bearings. It was like being shaken by the shoulders so hard that everything in his brain came loose and rattled around, like a coin in a dryer. Everything in him rewrote itself to accommodate Lance, to drive him to protect Lance, to fulfil his every desire.

At first, it frightened him. The intensity of his feelings were unlike anything else he’d ever felt. He hadn’t known what to do with them, or with himself. Vampires mating vampires was common, but vampires mating non-vampires? Less so. Even rarer for vampires to mate a werewolf, who’s blood-scents were always vaguely too dog-like to be generally appealing.

But it was different with Lance. It took them a while to get to know one another, and during that time Keith found himself unable to drink any blood that didn’t come from Lance. He had help from Shiro – a vampire like a brother to him – who knew what to do when a situation like Keith’s arose. Keith’s instincts prevented him from drinking any blood that wasn’t Lance’s, so he had to be drugged with a vampire-safe sedative and fed the blood intravenously. It was a common procedure for vampire mates who had yet to form a bond. 

He and Lance did form a bond eventually, though. When they knew each other better – when they actually liked one another. Werewolves experienced the same bonds vampires did, though it wasn’t related to blood. Instead, Lance once admitted to him that werewolves felt a physical spark when they touched the skin of their true mate, like they’d been shocked with painless electricity. 

“Did I shock you the first time we touched?” Keith had asked.

Lance had shrugged at that, looking embarrassed and red in the ears. He’d reached for Keith’s hand, brushing their fingertips together, and said, “You still do.”

The first time Keith tried Lance’s blood, he was pretty sure he cried. Nothing could ever taste so perfect, so satisfying. Lance had sat leaning against the back of the couch with Keith cramped in his lap, his face stuffed in the crook of Lance’s neck. He could have bitten Lance anywhere, but the neck was the easiest, and the intimacy level of biting there felt natural. He didn’t drink too much, because Lance had never been bitten before, but the few, precious mouthfuls he had were enough to completely overwhelm him.

Lance hadn’t mentioned Keith’s crying as he’d let Keith sniffle into his neck. Instead he’d let out a quiet, pleased rumble, his chest vibrating. He’d run his fingers through Keith’s hair and down his spine and waited patiently for Keith to gain his footing again, despite the fact that Keith’s weight couldn’t have been pleasant on his legs.

Being with Lance changed everything for him. He wasn’t as reckless as before, didn’t leave his meals for as long. He was always thinking of Lance, thinking of things they had to do together – who was going to cook dinner that evening, what member of Lance’s family had the next birthday, when Lance’s ruts were coming up. He felt almost stupidly protective of Lance – baring his teeth when some creep hit on him, pulling Lance closer when they were in a crowd, covering Lance in his scent as much as he could…

There was no hiding how much he cared for Lance. He had no desire to hide it, for that matter. Fate had decided to put them together and, for once, Keith was going to listen.


	43. Hunk/Lance - Home

Lance groaned as he twisted around on the bed, trying unsuccessfully to make himself comfortable. His heat was coming up, and it was making him miserable, as it usually did. He was almost always ridden with terrible stomach cramps, and it left him feeling nauseous and queasy, especially when he’d just woken up in the morning. It didn’t matter which pain-relieving medication he took for it either, because it never went away, no matter what he did.

Most of the time, it was at least somewhat bearable. He’d stick to eating simple foods like bread and plain rice, and he’d manage to sail through the few uneasy days before his heat until he was so mindless it didn’t matter what he ate.

When he’d gotten with his alpha, things had started changing for the better.

Everyone who knew the alpha knew that Hunk liked to cook. He was very good at it, too. Generally, he excelled at building things – his degree in engineering proved that. Somehow those skills had transferred to cooking, and because his parents had fostered his love for cooking when he was young, he’d grown up with a passion for it. It was something he and Lance had bonded over, actually, because Lance wasn’t a bad cook himself. There was nothing better than spending hours cooking in the kitchen with Hunk, knowing the food was going to be worth the effort.

As far as alphas went, Lance was sure there was no better alpha out there than Hunk. Even if he was a little nervous, he’d more than proved that he was capable of taking care of Lance – one incident with an alpha who wouldn’t take no for an answer had proved that. Hunk may have been a bit of a scaredy cat, but that didn’t change the fact that he was strong, and he was very protective when he wanted to be. 

That protectiveness was definitely riled up when Lance stopped eating properly.

When Lance’s heats rolled around, Hunk’s caring nature doubled in intensity. It was partly because his instincts demanded he take care of his omega, and partly because he was already a naturally caring person. He was always quite concerned about Lance’s reluctance to eat, and took it upon himself to take over all cooking duties. He even made homemade omega protein bars with all of Lance’s favourite things, knowing they’d be one of the only foods Lance could actually stomach.

(He’d had to teach himself the recipe, and even modified it to suit Lance’s tastes perfectly. Lance was pretty sure he couldn’t be any more in love with Hunk.)

It was the same that morning, when Lance was lying uncomfortable in bed. He’d had a restless night and was trying to catch up on sleep in the morning, but his stomach was rumbling and it was making it difficult to drift off again. 

He could smell Hunk approaching before he heard the quiet knock on the bedroom door. His alpha peeked in to check if he was awake, and when he met Lance’s sleepy eyes, he edged inside. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Lance croaked. He pushed himself upright, holding out his arms for Hunk. The alpha moved closer, setting aside the food of try he’d been carrying to instead sit down beside Lance, holding out one arm. Lance eagerly pressed into Hunk’s side, clutching at his shirt. Hunk’s scent was absolutely delightful – a mix of something sugary sweet like cookies, and something heady and warm. Something that smelled like home.

“You feeling alright?”

Lance just shook his head.

Hunk let out a small, comforting rumble he ran one big hand down Lance’s spine. He tucked Lance close against his side, scenting Lance’s hair for a quick moment, before he continued to rub Lance’s back. Lance loved his hands – loved all of Hunk, really. A lot of people might not have looked at him nicely because of his size, but they didn’t know how strong he was, how physically healthy he was. He didn’t conform to standard beauty sizes, so what? Lance loved him all the more for it because it just meant he was being himself.

And he was cuddly. So, so cuddly. What wasn’t to love?

“Here, try this,” Hunk said, dragging the tray closer. He’d made some sort of bread, though it didn’t look like normal bread. It smelled sweetly of coconut, and it made Lance salivate. He took a bite of the closest piece, careful not to spill crumbs on the bed. His stomach gave a painful clench, but then the tension eased, and the food went down well. It tasted just as good as it smelt.

“It’s good,” Lance said, giving his alpha a small smile.

Hunk grinned at him, pleased. He watched carefully as Lance consumed the entire plate, his scent taking on the pleased smugness that always appeared when alphas felt like they were taking proper care of their mates. 

After Lance had eaten, Hunk put the plate aside, and watched as Lance burrowed back into the blankets, his face pressed against Hunk’s pillow. Hunk continued to pat down his spine, watching Lance quietly. When Lance blinked open an eye at him, questioning, Hunk only smiled.

“You look tired,” he said, “you should get some more sleep.”

Lance hummed in agreement. He rolled over, curling up against Hunk’s leg. He reached for Hunk’s hand and pushed his cheek into Hunk’s palm, breathing out deeply. All the tension in him eased away as he breathed in his mate’s scent. Only a day or so more of this unease before he’d be on heat, and then everything would be fine. 

No one took care of him like Hunk. Sometimes heats could be intimidating when spent alone, but even when he and Hunk weren’t sharing Lance’s heats – when they’d just gotten together, and were still transitioning from friends to mates – Lance had never felt frightened. He knew Hunk would look out for him, and respect his boundaries; he always had. When they started sharing his heats, Hunk proved to be everything Lance could have ever wanted and more.

“Thank you,” Lance whispered, as sleep started to take over.

“You’re welcome,” Hunk replied. He bent down to kiss Lance’s temple, almost shyly, as he cradled Lance’s cheek. 

Lance knew Hunk would stay with him until he fell asleep. His presence always soothed Lance, always calmed the really instinctual part of him that loved being by his alpha. Lance had no idea how Hunk always knew what he wanted from him, but he wasn’t going to complain about the extra attention.


	44. Keith/Lance - Arrow

The moment the arrow pierced his flesh, Lance lost control of his body.

Poachers were uncommon in this area. There were too many large fey, too much danger for a human, even with their poisons and their blades and their capture nets. Coming to this land posed too much of a threat – the seas were full of colossal mers with tails as long as boats and teeth taller than Lance, and the forests were full of roaming beasts with trees growing from their backs and deer with jewels dripping from their antlers, but hooves that would readily deliver bone-shattering kicks. Only other fey were safe from the big ones, were welcomed to the land by the fey that took it upon themselves to protect it.

That’s why Lance wasn’t expecting the poachers. He and his mate were walking down a riverbed, enjoying the morning. It was a nice day. Lance – a water fey – flittered over the smooth rocks that made up the riverbed, ankle-deep in water. The cold refreshed him, perked him up. Sunlight poured through his translucent, blue wings and cast blue shadows on the ground behind him.

His mate, Keith, always watched him with a fascinated intensity. They hadn’t liked each other when they first met, hadn’t been able to get along. Keith was a fire fey, and his temper matched the heat expected of someone born in a volcano, but eventually their tense relationship had changed for the better. Stubbornness turned into affectionate stubbornness, and dislike turned to fierce protectiveness on both sides. They were contrasts in every possible way; hot and cold, quiet and loud, introverted and extroverted. Red and blue.

Somehow, their differences only furthered their bond.

Fey mated for life, and Lance would spend the rest of his life treasuring Keith in the way he deserved. 

And if that meant dying to save him, so be it.

Lance sensed the poachers before he saw them. His wings were spread wide, and they were sensitive to changes in the air, more so than Keith’s folded wings. He felt a chilling hush go over the forest and reacted before thinking about it, leaping to push Keith out of the way. The arrow burrowed into the back of his shoulder, its pointed tip pushing out through the other side. Lance let out a pained scream and stumbled to the ground, water soaking through his clothes. Blue, glittering blood spilled into the river.

Keith’s infuriated roar sparked fires all around them.

The pain was indescribable. Lance clawed at the arrow, his fingers slippery with his own blood. He wasn’t strong enough to pull it out, didn’t even know it if was safe to do so. It hadn’t pierced his wings, but his flesh was burning. It felt like his veins were on fire. He’d never been shot with an arrow, but he knew something wasn’t right.

Fire had consumed the forest around them. Lance dragged himself into the safety of the water, begging it to ease his pain, even though he knew Keith’s flames would never, ever hurt him. He heard screams that weren’t his own, smelt the acrid scent of burning trees fill his nose as black smoke went up around him.

Other fey came to help them. So much smoke and flame wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, and any water fey connected to the river would hear Lance’s pain. Lance heard familiar voices, heard people trying to calm Keith down. It felt like hours passed before hands hauled him from the water, but it was only seconds.

“Lance! Lance, can you hear me?” Keith’s skin was blisteringly hot, but Lance could hardly feel it. He trembled, gasping for air as Keith laid him on the grass, one hand pressing hard over the wound. He couldn’t get any words out.

“Here, let me,” a voice said. Shiro hovered over them, eyes as hard as steel. He was one of the strongest fey in their city. His life had been rough and full of battles, as evidenced by his scars and his missing arm, but it hadn’t hardened his soul. He was protective of everyone, cared for everyone – but Keith more so. Shiro had raised Keith, had guided him through his darkest times.

“He pushed me out of the way,” Keith said, voice hoarse and pained. “He got in the way.”

“He’s your mate, Keith,” Shiro said gently, clasping Keith’s shoulder for a brief moment. “He loves you. Now I need you to focus, okay? Hold him tightly, I’ve got to get the arrow out.”

“Is it safe?”

“Usually, no, but I know this type of arrow, and the quicker it’s out, the better.” Shiro pursed his lips, his jaw clenched. “There’s poison on it.”

Keith snarled.

“Hold him still,” Shiro repeated.

Keith’s hands tightened around him. Shiro placed his prosthetic hand on Lance’s chest, the other curling around the protruding arrow shaft. With one quick movement, he snapped it free. The jerk of the shaft made Lance cry out. Keith propped him up a little more, one hand cupping the back of his head to keep him still as Shiro yanked the other half of the arrow out of his back.

“Alright, keep pressure on the bleeding,” Shiro instructed. 

Keith ripped off strips from Lance’s tunic and tied them around his shoulder joint, knotting it tight. Blue seeped through immediately. Lance panted and whined, his head lolling backwards. His side was starting to go numb, despite the low burning that flooded through his veins. 

“Allura is waiting back at the city, we need to get him there quickly.” Shiro stood, and took Lance from Keith’s arms, despite Keith’s protesting snarl. Even in his frantic state of mind, Keith didn’t try to take him back – they both knew Shiro was physically stronger, and would be able to move faster with Lance’s weight than Keith would have. 

The journey passed back in a fast, hazy blur. Lance dripped sweat, gasping for air as he weakly plucked at the makeshift bandages, trying to scratch at his skin. Everything itched and burned, and he felt too hot inside, like all the water in him had evaporated. He whimpered for his mate and tried to take comfort in the moments when Keith passed his hand over Lance’s hair. 

Eventually the trees over his head changed to the ceiling of the medical building. He felt himself be laid down on a table, and then Keith’s hands were in his, squeezing just a little too tightly. Pressure was applied to the wound, and it make him choke with pain. 

“Please, you have to help him,” Keith whispered, his hands shaking. “He got in the way, he jumped in front of me.”

Lance tried to squeeze his hands back, to tell him it was alright. He’d do it again, a hundred times over, if it meant Keith would be safe. He’d do anything to protect his mate.

“Hold him still.” It was Allura speaking the words this time. Lance let her confident, cool voice spread over him. She was the most skilled healer in the city, aside from her father, who’d taught her everything she knew. “Lance, this is going to hurt, but I need you to bear it, alright?”

Again, he couldn’t answer. He forced open his heavy eyes and attempted to nod instead.

Keith pushed his hair away from his forehead, distracting him as Allura filled a needle with glowing liquid, and antidote only fey of her species could produce – quintessence. When she cleaned a patch of skin on his neck and pressed the tip of it to his skin, he sucked in a breath, and shut his eyes against the flood of pain that rushed through him. Quintessence was energy in its rawest form, and usually, only fey like Allura were capable of handling it. But it was the only thing that could heal all poisons, that could cure all man-made diseases inflicted upon the fey. 

It was a gamble using it, but a necessary one. Too much, and it could burn out all of the injured fey’s natural energy, taking them straight to death’s door. Too little and it would have no effect other than bringing more pain.

But Lance trusted Allura. She was skilled and intelligent, and a close friend as well. She’d do everything she could.

He didn’t realise he was screaming until Keith tried to hush him. Pain spilled from his lips in aching bursts, echoing around the room. He thrashed and writhed, feeling like his veins were rotting. Hours could have passed and he wouldn’t have known any different.

Eventually, eventually, it passed. He sagged against the table, exhausted and sweaty and teary. Keith pressed their faces together, his grip on Lance’s hand bruising. “It’s okay,” he croaked, over and over, like he was trying to convince himself and not Lance. “It’s okay, you’re okay, you’ll be okay.”

Allura carefully peeled back the bandages. She cut open his tunic, exposing his chest and shoulders, and set to wiping away the blood drying on his skin. He watched her through slitted eyes and took comfort in the small, relieved smile she gave him. With the wound exposed and cleaned, she slathered it in a cooling paste, and had Keith sit him up so she could do the same on the other side. The quintessence was stitching it up from the inside out, but she replaced the bandage anyway, because it would take days to completely close.

“He’s going to have a fever for a while, so we need to watch his fluids,” Allura said, as Keith laid him back down. “Have the water fey bring over some of their best product for him, because he’ll need it to replenish all of his energy.”

Keith nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Allura gave him a small smile, and covered Keith’s hand with her own. “He’ll be okay, Keith. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“I know.”

“Take him home, and made sure he rests. I’ll be over every evening to change the bandages, and I’ll send Shiro over with medicine for the fever.” She was quiet for a moment. “I’ll send something for your burns, too.”

Lance cracked open his eyes at that, his heart thumping. He knew Keith’s powers could sometimes be hard to control, but he hadn’t slipped up in years. His eyes, however, were not deceiving him – Keith’s arms were frightfully red in places, his veins angry and irritated. Smoke had left sooty smudges on his pale skin.

“You’re hurt,” he rasped.

Keith startled, frowning at him. He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s nothing.” His eyes were closed, but he opened them to look into Lance’s. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’d do it again,” Lance managed to force out.

Keith’s frown deepened. His eyes were watery. “You definitely will not.”

“Will too.”

Keith huffed out a breath, but it wasn’t as strained as before. “I am so going to yell at you when you’re better,” he promised. With a groan, he lifted Lance up into his arms, careful of his wings and wounds. “But first, you are going to sleep for at least a month. I’m serious. You’re not getting out of bed… ever.”

Lance curled into Keith’s chest, breathing in his warmth. “I’m okay with that.”

“Good.”

He had no doubt that Keith was going to be stupidly protective of him for months to come, especially until they figured out how poachers had gotten so far into their lands. But he couldn’t blame Keith – his own body ached to spring into action just at the thought of Keith getting hurt. He’d do anything to protect Keith. He would never find another mate again, never love anyone as deeply and wholly as he loved Keith. 

“You’re my everything,” he said, when they were alone in the corridor. They were the words they’d given to each other at their bonding ceremony.

Keith let out a shaky breath, and pressed his lips to Lance’s forehead. “As you are mine.”


	45. Lance/Lotor - Apart

Lance fiddled with his phone, turning it over and over between his fingers, as he waited for it to ring. This was becoming a bit of a habit, the waiting. He was too impatient for his own good.

It wasn’t like he could really help himself, though. He always tried to distract himself when he knew it was about the time Lotor would call, but nothing really worked. That evening he’d tried to put on a movie, one of his favourites, but it was only playing in the background now. He was watching without really watching it, his focus instead drifting to his phone.

No one knew that he and Lotor had started dating. They weren’t really the kind of people who usually got together, were they? Lotor was business focused, and very driven by his career goals. He hardly seemed to have the time for romantic relationships, and had never expressed interest in them before. Lance was the exact opposite. He was flirty and extroverted, and very people orientated. He thrived when he was around others. Even if he could be just as career-driven, it wasn’t to the same extent as Lotor. They had different priorities and different value systems.

But somehow they worked.

It was probably Lance’s big, obvious crush on Lotor that led to this. He wasn’t good at hiding it when he liked someone. At first, he hadn’t had a crush on Lotor, despite his stunning good looks, but his surprising charm and gentle heart eventually (secretly) won Lance over. 

He liked the way Lotor treated those around him with the utmost respect, and how he attentively listened to every idea brought to him. He was fair and courteous, and took the wellbeing of others seriously. Lance had seen Lotor take it upon himself to organise a generous amount of time off for pregnant co-workers, and if he heard anyone was ill, then he’d send them straight home with orders to rest easy. He was a good man, despite what others thought about him and his family. His father was a completely different story, and although Lotor never denied the bad things his father did, he strove hard to separate his actions from them. 

Lance admired his strength a lot. Carrying the burden of his parents on his shoulders while trying to further his own business independently must have been very difficult.

He wasn’t quite sure what had Lotor looking at him in a romantic light, but it had been Lotor who made the first move. He’d quite nervously asked Lance to get coffee with him, and Lance had all but melted at the unexpected shyness Lotor exposed to him. Since then, they’d only grown closer. Lotor had admitted that he found Lance’s loud personality endearing, and that had made Lance grin in joy.

Being apart was a lonely experience now, considering how often they spent time together. They’d been dating for a while, and more often than not spent the night at each other’s houses. Lance was a good cook and Lotor had come to like his home cooked dinners quite a bit. They’d relax and watch television together most evenings, or go out for walks. 

It was nice. Casual. Lance had dated people before but it felt different with Lotor, like there was no rush to fall in love, no need to set timeframes or dates to reach milestones by. He felt like he could take his time, and that was something he really liked. Lotor made him feel comfortable being himself.

When his phone finally did ring, flashing Lotor’s name, he was flooded with excitement. 

Lotor’s voice was deep and pleasing to the ears. “Hello, Lance.”

“Hey,” he said, a delighted grin coming to his face. 

“How was your day, love?”

Lance flushed, and leaned back into the couch, curling up around his phone. Lotor’s business trip would only last another week, and then he’d be back. Lance would survive on nightly calls until then. And really, when he thought about it, their time apart was really showing him just how much he’d come to care for Lotor. It was almost dizzying.

He’d be sure to tell Lotor that when he came home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people probably don't like Lotor anymore but... I'll just ignore almost all of what season six did to him and continued to live on in the au where he is nothing but a gentleman aha


	46. Keith/Lance - Multitask

Lance yawned as he stretched out on his towel. Just his legs were poking out from beneath the shade of the wide, striped umbrella he had propped in the sand, and the heat of the sun was making him feel all lazy and sleepy. When he folded his arms under his head, he could smell salt water drying on its skin, and it was such a familiar scent that he couldn’t help but smile.

“I am going to be so sunburnt,” Keith muttered from beside him. He was stretched out on his own towel, half of him in the sun, the other half in the shade. It seemed like the warmth had relaxed him just as much as it had Lance; his cheek was crushed against his arm, and his lips were parted, his eyes closed. He looked like he was going to fall asleep any moment and it was too damn adorable. 

“You won’t get sunburnt,” Lance said, snorting. “I put like… an entire bottle of sunscreen on you.”

“I thought you were just feeling me up.”

“I can multitask.”

Keith snorted this time. “Uh huh, sure.”

Lance tried to muffle his laughter into his arms. He blinked at Keith, a smile on his lips. Strands of wet hair were sticking to Keith’s neck and cheeks, and despite the sun, parts of his back were still wet. His damp swimming shorts were sticking to every inch of his muscled thighs and it was a sight that made Lance warm in the stomach. 

“Move over here if you don’t want to burn,” Lance said. Keith cracked open an eye, assessing the space between them – there clearly wasn’t enough, not unless they wanted to be pressed side to side, but that was kind of the point. Keith shifted over, turning half on his side so that he wouldn’t shoulder Lance in the face, and rested his arm across Lance’s back.

“This okay?” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” Lance nodded, pressing just a little closer, tucking his nose under Keith’s chin. He was quickly going to get hot like this, and he had no doubt that their skin was going to stick together, but he found that he didn’t really care. Being close to Keith like this felt like a luxury.

No one knew they were dating. That was a choice they’d both made, at least for now. It felt like there was less pressure on them if no one knew, like they had more room to settle into a relationship without the eyes of others watching them. Going out on dates to places as public as the beach was a rare occurrence for them, so they took advantage of it as much as they could.

This wasn’t a beach either one of them frequented. They didn’t know anyone in the area, so it gave them the chance to be more publicly affectionate. Lance was free to look and touch as much as he wanted, and to be looked at and touched just as much in return. 

“Fair warning, I am definitely going to fall asleep,” Lance said, as he shifted around to get a little more comfortable, squeezing one arm around Keith’s waist. Bare skin on bare skin felt sinfully good. 

Keith grunted in reply, resting his cheek against Lance’s hair. “That’s fine.” 

Lance smiled to himself, and shut his eyes. The sun was warm, the sound of the waves was comforting, and he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be than with Keith. 

He just wanted to spend time with his boyfriend, and this day had been absolutely perfect for that.


	47. Keith/Lance - Humming

Sometimes, Keith had trouble falling asleep. He’d never really been a heavy sleeper, never really felt like he went an entire night without waking up or restlessly tossing and turning. He wasn’t sure why it was such a problem for him, but he was so used to it that it seemed normal, now. It wasn’t like he had nightmares, or insomnia. 

He supposed he just had trouble turning himself off, or at least the part of him that was alert to his surroundings. The slightest noise would wake him, and he’d often find himself more asleep than awake, but not entirely asleep, for hours at a time. Despite that, he never really woke up exhausted, or felt fatigued, so he’d never made any efforts to try and sleep deeper. It had never been a big problem, or even something that he really thought about.

He supposed that being with Lance, and sharing a bed with him, sort of changed his perspective on things.

Lance really liked his sleep. He had a face mask and headphones for when he wanted to sleep deeply, and he had no troubles drifting off when it came time to close his eyes at night. Noises didn’t often wake him, not even if they were loud, and he despised waking up any earlier than he had to. His alarm was his worst enemy. Keith usually woke up before him, and he secretly found it quite cute when Lance was deeply asleep, his hair askew, often drooling on his pillow. He had no cares in the world when he was all tucked up in his blankets. 

Out of the two of them, it was definitely Lance who usually fell asleep in strange places. He could sleep in the car without any trouble, and dozed on the couch when he was in need of a nap. Sometimes when it was warm he’d sleep on the grass in the backyard. Keith liked finding him slumped over asleep somewhere, because Lance would always curl himself up into whatever space he was occupying, and he thought that was also cute.

He’d never tell Lance that, though. He’d probably want to be called handsome instead, when all Keith could think was that he was the cutest guy ever. Handsome too, of course, but when asleep… very cute. It was something he spent a stupidly, embarrassingly long time thinking about. And it was also a very distracting thought. 

In any case, it was usually Lance who fell asleep in strange places, and who enjoyed sleep to its fullest extent. 

That’s why he was surprised to find himself nodding off on the couch. It wasn’t something he usually did; he wasn’t interested in naps, and only really slept during the day if he was sick, or if he’d worked through the night. And that wasn’t the case for him that afternoon. 

He and Lance had enjoyed a relaxed weekend. It had rained nonstop, which kept them inside almost all day, aside from when they had to do their weekly grocery shop. Lance had spent a lot of time baking when the household chores had been finished, or catching up on the television shows he was binge watching. Keith had relaxed just as much, and was currently lying on the couch with a book in his hands.

It was one he liked, too, which was why he was surprised to find himself struggling to keep his eyes open. 

He was distracted from reading by the sounds Lance was making in the kitchen. He had the radio turned on low, so quiet it was only an inaudible mumble in the background, and he was humming to every song that happened to play. Keith wasn’t sure what he was making, but it was something sweet; he could smell sugar. Underneath Lance’s soft humming he could hear the tapping of utensils on bowls as Lance mixed and stirred. It was almost hypnotic.

His eyes drooped as he lowered his book, letting himself listen to the sounds Lance was making. He’d grown used to hearing another person around, had memorised the sound of Lance’s footsteps coming up their hallway, knew the sound of Lance’s keys jingling as he unlocked the front door. The house felt less lonely when Lance was also living in it.

“You sleepy?”

He startled at Lance’s voice, eyes blinking open. “What?”

Lance was leaning one hip against the kitchen doorway, a large mixing bowl cradled in his arms. There was a smile on his face. “You look tired. Why don’t you nap?”

“I don’t nap,” Keith mumbled, petulant.

“You are clearly on the verge of napping right now,” Lance teased. He set the bowl down on the coffee table and crouched beside where Keith was resting, reaching out one hand to brush his fingers through Keith’s hair. “It’s not like we have anything else to do today. You should sleep, if you want to.”

Keith made a small noise, and lifted his book. “I’m reading.”

Lance laughed quietly. He leaned over, smelling of sweetness, and kissed Keith’s forehead. “You do that, then.”

After picking up the mixing bowl, Lance wandered back into the kitchen, and continued with his tapping and humming and general noise making. Once again, Keith was lulled back into dozing, unable to concentrate on his book. Something about knowing Lance was so close by was unmistakably relaxing, and he couldn’t fight off the way his eyes slipped shut.

Sighing in defeat, he marked his page, and put his book down. Maybe a small nap would rejuvenate him. He made himself more comfortable, and let his thoughts drift away as he focused on Lance, on the soft banging in the kitchen, on the sound of batter being mixed and the stove clicking on. 

It was painfully domestic, but in the best way possible. He felt… safe, knowing Lance was there. Like he didn’t need to keep his guard up all the time. 

Only a few moments passed before he was peacefully, comfortably asleep.


	48. Keith/Lance - Lead

Lance liked all kinds of animals. He’d grown up with fish, dogs and cats, and a bird or two. He liked the companionship animals gave, and how easily it was to love them. Ever since he was little he’d gotten along which was animals too, which was a plus. He loved working with them, loved being with them, and could tolerate the less glamourous parts of having animals if he knew it was for the right reason.

As much as he loved animals, his current apartment didn’t really allow for pets. He had a cat, Blue, who was his pride and joy, but he doubted anything bigger than he would be comfortable in such a cramped space. Maybe fish, but he didn’t want to leave fish alone with Blue all day, just because of her playful nature. Best not to leave open targets around the cat, right?

In any case, Lance currently didn’t live with more than just a (lovely) cat. So when a dog half his size came streaking up to him out of nowhere, it’s safe to say that he was quite surprised.

He was outside the apartment building when it happened, having just returned from a morning catch up coffee with his friend, Hunk. The dog was huge, much bigger up close, and had the thickest, darkest fur Lance has ever seen. He wasn’t sure what breed it was, but it was quite beautiful, and obviously very friendly – it went right to him, sniffing at his outstretched hands before all but throwing itself against his legs, looking for pats.

“Where’d you come from, huh?” he wondered out loud, as he grabbed onto the lead dangling from the dog’s collar. The dog doesn’t seem to notice.

A running figure seemed to answer that question for him.

“Sorry,” the guy said, as he caught up with the dog. He didn’t look like he was much older than Lance, and was only slightly out of breath as he reached for the dog’s lead. “He’s mine.”

“It’s okay, I like dogs,” Lance replied, grinning, as he ran his fingers through the dog’s fur. “He’s really friendly, isn’t he?”

“He’s not usually so quick to run up to people,” the guy admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “And he’s never run from me like that, he usually sticks right by my side whenever we go out for walks.” 

Lance laughed, unable to help himself. The guy looked so petulant, like his dog had betrayed him by embarrassing him. “He must really like me then!”

A tiny smile flashed across the guy’s face. He was quite handsome with a mysterious smile like that. “He must,” he agreed. 

Lance felt himself go warm on the inside, which surprised him. His cheeks flushed. “Or maybe he can just smell my cat. I’m Lance, by the way.”

“Keith,” the guy said. “Thanks for stopping him.”

“More like he stopped me,” he joked.

Keith’s tiny smile reappeared. Lance grew warm again. He’d never been gladder he liked dogs.


	49. Keith/Lance - Side

Lance felt nervousness grip his heart. He squeezed the edge of the couch, knuckles white, as he watched Keith pace. His alpha’s scent was thick with unease and anger, and there was a snarl curling up the corner of his lips. He was agitated to the max, so much so that it almost seemed to vibrate out of him. Keith wasn’t angry at Lance – he’d never act that way towards his mate – but Lance was still worried.

Not for himself, but for his mate.

Keith had really worked himself into a temper, but Lance didn’t blame him. He knew that Keith’s relationship with his parents was strenuous, and they almost always butted heads over something or other. Keith had really flipped on them when they questioned his choice of mate, as if using Lance as a weapon was going to make him like them more. 

Deep down, he knew that Keith was hurt by his parents. They’d all but abandoned him when he was a child, and he’d been raised by Shiro, someone who Keith viewed as a parent. Over the years his actual parents had made attempts to get to know him more, but it was a tense relationship. Neither one of his parents were ready to admit that they’d abandoned him, or that they’d done wrong by him. Keith knew he deserved respect and was going to be cold until his parents realised that he was an adult capable of making his own decisions.

“They don’t understand that I don’t want them to parent me,” Keith ranted, as he restlessly paced up and down the lounge room. “I don’t need their approval on anything I’m doing with my life.”

“I know,” Lance soothed. He’d heard all of this a dozen times today, but he knew that letting Keith work it out of his system was the best idea. 

“They don’t respect my decisions, they don’t treat me like an adult, and they don’t respect my mate! Why do I even bother?”

Lance pursed his lips, feeling his throat go tight with that nervous feeling again. He watched Keith pace, wondering what he could do to ease his alpha’s pain. Even if Keith didn’t want to admit it, he wanted his parents’ approval, wanted them to finally be a part of his life. Just not as his parents, at least not yet. They couldn’t take that role away from the one person Keith truly trusted it to, and Keith was offended that they’d even try. 

Eventually, Keith tired himself out. He was less angry and more bitter. 

When he made another round past the couch, Lance snagged his hand, and pulled Keith down on top of him. It was a testament to Keith’s mood that he made no attempt to get back up like he usually would have. Instead he melted, and let Lance shift them around until they were lying together, legs tangled.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more to help you,” he said.

“This is more than enough,” Keith told him, his fingers digging their way under the back of Lance’s shirt until his palms were pressed flat against skin. “I don’t mean to get so angry.”

“You have every right to, Keith.” He brushed hair out of Keith’s eyes, knowing how vulnerable this conversation made his mate feel. 

“I just want… I just want them to say I’ve done a good job,” Keith whispered, eyes wavering. “Why can’t they see all the things I’ve got, and not the things I don’t?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said honestly. “I wish I did. But I’m always going to be on your side, Keith. Doesn’t matter what for.”

Keith gave him a wane smile. His scent was easing, the bitterness ebbing away. “I need you on my side.”

“I always will be,” Lance repeated. “You’re my mate.”

Keith let out a quiet rumble. Accepting, and relieved. 

Lance would repeat it as many times as needed. He would always choose Keith over everyone else, would always be on Keith’s side. If Keith needed him, then he’d be there, no matter what. That’s what mates did.

And there was no one in the world more important to him than his mate.


	50. Keith/Lance - Dreamy

Lance frowned at his drink, tilting his wrist to watch the liquid slosh around his cup. Something about it tasted different tonight. He wondered if he should ask the kitchen staff if they’d changed their recipe, or perhaps harvested different fruits to make the juice, but he found himself too exhausted to bother. 

Absentmindedly, he placed a hand over his stomach. He could almost imagine he felt tiny flutters, though he knew there was no chance of that. It was far too early, after all. The doctor had only confirmed his pregnancy that morning.

He pictured the way he’d tell Keith. He knew his alpha would be happy, though he’d probably be stunned into silence first. They hadn’t exactly been trying for a child, but it was something they’d spoken about, and agreed that they wanted. For now, the only other person who knew about his pregnancy – aside from the doctor – was Princess Allura, who had accompanied him to his appointment. As his cousin, she had taken it upon herself to look out for him when his alpha was away.

Mostly at Keith’s request, probably. The alpha likely thought Lance would get himself into trouble if he was left on his own. Lance definitely did not have a history of doing just that.

In either case, he didn’t mind being babysat by Allura. She was a great friend, and could be goaded into having a bit of fun when none of the royal guard where around to see. And she didn’t treat him any different because he wasn’t first in line to succeed his bloodline, considering he had two very capable, very intelligent older siblings (of whom he loved very dearly).

Suddenly drowsy, he sunk further down into his armchair, wondering what he come over him. He missed Keith something fierce, and wished his mate was with him, and not out on a mission per Altea’s orders. He knew that as one of the best soldiers Keith was required to be away from home, but Lance wanted to be with him to share his good news.

He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open. Being pregnant was surely going to leave him tired, but this felt… different. He’d never been so suddenly lethargic before. 

He was out of it before his cup hit the floor.

 

When he woke up, he was cold. The room was unfamiliar, and despite being in a bed, he wasn’t comfortable at all. His head was pounding, and it took him several minutes to be able to open his eyes without it hurting.

Sickening fear stirred in his stomach, making him want to throw up his dinner. There were no windows so he couldn’t tell what time of the day it was, or where he’d been taken. When he tried to sit up, he found that his hands had been bound and tied to one of the bedposts, making it difficult for him to move.

He had to take several deep breathes to make sure his dinner stayed where it was.

Someone would notice he was missing from the palace. He had a follow-up appointment with the doctor the next morning, and Allura would be waiting for him at breakfast, so that they could take a stroll around the royal gardens before attending their duties for the day. And Keith was meant to be back soon – he’d notice straight away that Lance was gone.

Lance looked at his bound hands again. It was rope, not chain – his captors clearly hadn’t expected him to wake up so early. When he thought back to his strange tasting juice at dinner, he knew it must have been drugged. He hadn’t had too much, which was probably why he was awake now. Small mercies.

He could work with rope. Lance managed to twist himself into an upright position and worked at the knot as best as he could, bracing his hands between his knees to offer himself at least a little leverage. The rope burnt his wrists something fierce, but after some insistent, half-panicked tugging, he managed to free himself. He’d ripped open the delicate skin of his inner wrists, but it was worth it.

Standing proved to be more difficult than sitting had. The minute he tried, he was overwhelmed by dizziness, and collapsed back onto the edge of the bed. 

He pressed his hand over his stomach. He had to get away.

After a few tense minutes passed, he tried again, and managed to keep his head straight. He couldn’t hear voices or smell any strong scents, but that didn’t mean his captor weren’t nearby. There was a window across the room, so he went to it, and slowly, painstakingly opened the wooden shutters in a way that wouldn’t make them bang.

Astounded, he looked out at a view of the outer city districts. He was still in Altea’s capital! 

The room he was in was on the second story. At the sound of footsteps coming towards him, he threw caution to the wind, and wobbled out over the window ledge. The roof was sloped, the tiles slippery beneath his feet. He just managed to duck behind an alcove when shouts reared up from the open window he’d left behind.

A quick peek back revealed his captors – Galra poachers. They kidnapped omegas often, but had never so brazenly taken someone from the palace. The Alteans would take it as a sure-fire insult, and crack down on the bands of Galra sneaking into their land. It was going to be a political mess, but even more so if Lance didn’t get away.

The drop down to the ground looked further than he expected now that he knew he was carrying precious cargo. Still, with nowhere else to go and the Galra now on his trail, he sucked in a breath and dropped down. Hitting the pathway sent a jarring shock up his legs, one that briefly rendered him breathless. 

But there was no time to recover. He took off running towards the direction of the palace, nestled at the other end of the city. He heard shouts and bangs behind him but he knew these streets like the back of his hand, and didn’t take the main roads.

It didn’t take him long to find Altean guards storming down the streets. He could have cried out in relief as he ran for them, panting and run ragged. It was just starting to become morning now. 

“Lance!” one of the guards called out, when he all but collapsed at their feet. 

“The Galra, they’re in the city–” he gasped. 

It seemed like the guards were already aware of the situation. One took him back to the palace while the other alerted their team. There was suddenly a flurry of activity around him, but he was so exhausted he could barely keep up with it. All he knew was one minute he was running through the streets, and then the next he was being whisked away to the palace doctors, and Allura was forcing her way to his side.

“You’re safe now, Lance,” she promised, as she accompanied him to the infirmary. She looked worried, but strong. Always so strong. He had no doubts that she would keep him safe.

He must have passed out, because the next time he was aware of his surroundings, he found Keith by his side.

“Keith…?”

“Lance!” His alpha stood, leaning over the infirmary bed to place a palm on Lance’s forehead. “Are you okay?”

Lance hummed. He felt better, and like everything that had happened had been nothing more than a haze. “Yeah. What happened?”

A snarl twisted at Keith’s lips. He had one hand around Lance’s, and it tightened, his grip almost bruising. “You were kidnapped,” he said, tense. “A bunch of omegas were taken from the palace – employees, you, anyone. Didn’t matter about their social status.”

Lance’s stomach dropped. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah. You got away, and the guards were able to track your path back to where the omegas were being held. Not a lot of them have woken up yet, but they’ve all been treated. They’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

Keith scowled at him. His scent was thick and sour, filled with concern and anger. “You could have been hurt! I wasn’t…”

Lance knew what he was thinking. He pushed himself upright, ignoring Keith’s worried gestures, and let himself slump against his mate. Keith’s position in the guard would take him away from home sometimes, that was just how it was. Lance himself had had a similar job when they’d met, before he’d taken a different role in the palace, one more befitting of his partial royal blood.

“Did the doctor tell you I’m pregnant?” he asked.

Keith started, going stiff all over. “You’re…?”

“Mhmm.” Lance let his scent go soft and warm, trying to calm his alpha. He let Keith place a gentle hand over his stomach, and waited in patient silence as Keith absorbed the information.

“Really?” he croaked.

“Yeah. I found out… yesterday, I guess?” Lance nudged his nose under Keith’s chin. “I think all my hormones made me more sensitive to taste – I could tell my drink wasn’t right. I didn’t have much of it.”

“And the baby’s okay?”

“Yeah.” Lance closed his eyes. He was probably still in shock, because everything still felt dreamy, but he knew he was protected with Keith beside him. 

Keith held him closer. “I’m never leaving you again,” he muttered. 

“I’m alright with that.”

Keith petted his stomach a little. 

Lance fell asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I binged watched all of season seven tonight and was not prepared to be so emotionally traumatised :')


	51. Keith/Lance - Unpredictable

Steam curled off of Lance’s skin, reddening it. The water was too hot, but after stubbornly letting it run over his skin, he’d grown used to the slight, insistent burn. He’d long since scrubbed away the dirt and sweat, but he was stuck in the motion of cleaning, and couldn’t get himself to stop.

It was a bitter reminder that his heat was coming up. 

He wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer. His suppressants had finally run out, and he was out of ways to block his scent. There were only so many times he could wash his sheets, and layering himself in perfumed shampoos and deodorants was starting to bother him, not just everyone else. He knew it wasn’t something he could control, but he still felt like his body was betraying him.

No one else on the team knew he was an omega. Not even Hunk. Lance had kept his status hidden since he was a cadet, not wanting it to define him. He’d been a bit embarrassed, and a bit ashamed to be an omega. After all, there weren’t many omegas in the Garrison. 

For a while, Lance had let it stray to the back of his mind. By some extremely lucky coincidence, he’d had a fresh packet of suppressants in his pocket when he’d found Blue – he’d received them from the Garrison infirmary earlier that day and had forgotten to drop them off at his room. They’d lasted a long time because he only needed to take one a fortnight, and he’d had an entire packet of them, but now they’d run out.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He thought about maybe going to Coran to see if something similar could be made up, but he wasn’t sure if that was the best idea. Human gender dynamics had been explained to the Alteans, but they thought he was a beta like Hunk and Pidge, and a beta would have no need for suppressants. 

Thinking about it made him scrub at his skin harder.

As much as this was a problem, he didn’t have the mental energy or courage to deal with it. His heat wasn’t the sort of problem to go away if he ignored it, but that was how he was acting. He was hoping that the extended time he’d spent on suppressants would mean his heat wouldn’t come, or that it at least wouldn’t be as long as it usually was.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case.

Also unfortunately for him, he was out on a training session with the Lions when his heat struck. He’d always had somewhat unpredictable and intense heats, and it seemed like this one wasn’t going to be any different. One moment he was flying Blue in formation with the other Paladins, only able to half-listen to the directions being given, and then the next Blue was wobbling out of line.

“Oh god,” he wheezed. 

“Lance? Are you alright?” Allura asked.

Cramps made his stomach twist itself into knots. Dizziness hit him like a sledgehammer, and he lost control of himself – and, consequently, his Lion. She plummeted from the sky and scored a harsh line in the sandy dunes beneath them. The impact sent Lance sprawling forwards out of his chair, his hands slamming against the controls to brace himself.

“Lance!” It was Hunk this time.

He couldn’t respond. Shakily, he hauled Blue to her feet, and steered her back towards the castle. She stumbled and kicked up sprays of sand, which was completely unlike her, but he couldn’t see straight. The Alteans were talking in his ear but it was so distracting and loud that he ripped his helmet off the second he nudged Blue into the hangar bay.

Lance staggered out of Blue and into the corridor, bolting for the bathrooms. He was halfway there before he ran into Allura.

“Lance!” She reached for him, ignoring the way he suddenly reared back. “Are you alright?”

Unbidden, a snarl left him. He was unprotected, and he had no nest to defend himself in, no alpha to look out for his needs. Allura was the one to jump back this time, surprised by his ferocity. She didn’t have the scent of any gender he recognised him and it was throwing him off, and as much as he wanted to bolt, his strength was fast leaving him.

When his knees fell out from under him, she leapt forwards to make sure he didn’t hit the ground. 

“Something is very wrong!” Allura was saying into her helmet. “He’s burning up.”

The scents of other people reached him before the sounds of their footsteps did. He smelt familiar betas, and familiar alphas, but it still made him snarl as they came closer. Trying to fight his way free of Allura’s grip proved futile.

“Oh my god,” Hunk said, as he spotted them, one hand immediately going over his nose. “He’s an omega?”

“That’s impossible,” Pidge said, but it was clear they didn’t believe their words. The proof was irrefutable, after all. 

Shiro baulked as he caught Lance’s scent, one hand going around Keith’s arm to hold him in place as the younger alpha jolted forwards. Lance whined at the sight of Keith, at the smell of him. Would the younger alpha help him?

“What’s wrong with him?” Allura asked, worried.

“He’s going into heat,” Shiro told her, his voice strained. Perhaps sensing Lance’s mounting distress, he wisely let go of Keith, who rushed forwards with a barely contained snarl. “Let Keith take him, Princess.”

“But I thought Keith was an alpha,” she protested.

“He is, but his scent may be able to help Lance,” Shiro explained. “Sensing an unmated alpha might make Lance less hostile.”

It did. The second Keith grabbed him away from Allura, he was overwhelmed by the scent of alpha. A pained, pitched whine left him. Keith’s scent was thick and heavy with possessiveness, something Lance didn’t expect from the alpha. He’d liked Keith for a while, but never expected anything to come from it, especially when no one knew the truth about him. Maybe he’d been wrong about how one-sided his feelings were.

“How did he keep this a secret?” Allura asked. “And why?”

Shiro shook his head, lips tight. “We’ll ask when he’s better. For now – Keith, can you take care of him?”

It was a serious question. Lance was still lucid enough to know that he didn’t want anything to come from this, at least not until he’d talked about it properly, thought about it carefully. He wasn’t sure he could consent like this. Wasn’t even sure he could form a sentence. But he needed to know he had an alpha caring for him, because the thought of being alone for the entire duration of his heat was terrifying.

“I can,” Keith forced out. He let out a long exhale, and repeated himself, surer this time. “I can. I’m fine. I won’t hurt him.”

“Alright,” Shiro conceded. 

An alpha’s need to protect their pack was unrivalled by no other instinct. Keith lifted him from the ground with a surprising amount of strength. He took Lance back to his room, and set him down on his bed, never straying far. The presence of an alpha was helping clear Lance’s head a little, but his heat was progressing nevertheless, making his scent enticingly sweet and his body shake with tiny tremors.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked.

“No,” Lance moaned. “It hurts.”

Keith sat down on the ground beside the bed. His pupils were dilated, and his nose twitched every few seconds, no doubt taking in Lance’s scent. “Why didn’t you say you were an omega?”

Lance couldn’t answer. He really didn’t know. He’d been keeping it to himself for so long that he never really thought about telling anyone, not even when he really needed to. He just didn’t want to be a burden.

Keith inched closer, lowering his head to nudge his nose against Lance’s temple. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture, one Lance didn’t expect from someone who didn’t really like physical touch. Keith let out a low, comforting rumble, a sound unique to alphas. “I’m not going to do anything,” he promised. “I’ll just be here, okay?” He hesitated, then sighed, and mumbled, “This is a hell of a way to tell someone you like them, but there.”

Lance trembled again, flushing red. He felt safe in the knowledge that Keith would be able to care for him, no matter how much Lance might beg for more. He licked his dry lips and let Keith’s words sink in, taking root somewhere deep inside his chest. They’d be hard to remove. “Hell of a way to find out someone likes you back,” he croaked.

A pleased sweetness same to Keith’s scent. He didn’t say anything back, but the gentle way he touched Lance’s hair – like he was amazed he was allowed to do so – said all the things he needed to.


	52. Shiro/Lance - Dynamics

Every person on Earth with access to an educational institute went through mandatory gender dynamics classes. Learning to understand how the secondary genders worked in alignment with primary genders, as well as the different combinations, designations, and identities that went along with them, was an important part of social learning.

Even the Garrison had integrated short gender dynamic classes alongside the standard curriculum of mathematics, astronomy, engineering, and so on. Respect for all gender dynamics was an important thing to learn in the wake of hundreds of years of inequality, and having those lessons – not only learning the social history of gender dynamics, but the biology of them, too – ensured pilots maintained strict respect for their fellow cadets. 

As such, Shiro was just as well educated on gender dynamics as the rest of the Paladins. He was an alpha, having presented at the average age of fifteen, and although he had no suppressants in space he was capable of handling his instincts to a suitable degree. He was the leader of Voltron, as well as the leader of the little pack they’d formed, so he was familiar with everyone else’s dynamics, too.

Luckily for him, their pack had a decent spread of all dynamics. A pack of alphas, for instance, might struggle to get along. But their pack was almost even, in that sense. He and Keith were alphas – Keith deferred to him for now, because Shiro had a better handle on his instincts, and was able to reign Keith in without needing to resort to force. Hunk was a beta, as was Pidge. Their neutral scents and inherent natures as betas meant that they were fairly level-headed in the instinct department. Betas were usually directed by the instinct to balance packs, to help maintain equality. 

Lance was the lone omega on their team. Shiro was worried, for a while, that being the only omega might be detrimental to Lance’s health. A lot of omegas thrived around other omegas, and felt comforted by the presence of people who shared their dynamic. Omegas were driven to be caretakers, and were often the heart of packs, the ones who took it upon themselves to look after others.

But Lance seemed alright. He stuck to Hunk and Pidge for a while, clearly more comfortable with them than two alphas, but as their pack became closer, he settled around Shiro and Keith without a worry. It was a bit touch-and-go as everyone came off of their suppressants, since there weren’t any in space, but everything worked out in the end. 

Over all, Shiro was very pleased with his little pack. He could manage Keith’s ruts – luckily, they were short and sharp, much less intense than average. And he could manage Hunk and Pidge’s need for inclusion, something that they perhaps didn’t realise they had, but was common for betas their age. They didn’t have a secondary reproduction cycle like alphas and omegas, and only Pidge suffered from the female equivalent, but she seemed okay with going to Allura for help with that.

Lance’s heats were… well. He hadn’t had one yet, but Shiro could tell the instant the omega’s body started preparing for one.

Explaining all this to the Alteans had been almost impossible.

“So you’re saying you all have two genders,” Allura had repeated, as she, Coran, and Shiro stood together on the observation deck.

“Yes,” Shiro had nodded. When they’d started coming off their suppressants, he’d tried to explain gender dynamics in greater detail. “All humans do.”

“I’ve never heard of that before!” Coran had looked both curious and dumbfounded. 

“So you’re an…?” Allura had trailed off.

“Alpha,” Shiro explained. “Male alpha.”

“And Keith is too?”

“Yes.”

“Which means you don’t get along.”

“Not exactly.” Shiro let out a ragged sigh. “It’s just that alphas tend to be more aggressive, more dominant, personality wise. Not always. But Keith defers to me, and understands that I’m currently holding authority over him.”

“Okay. And you said Pidge and Hunk are betas?”

“Yes. Pidge has had some… confusion about her primary dynamic, but for now, she’s decided she’s female.” Somehow, that had been something the Alteans understood without any trouble. Shiro had been relieved – he wasn’t sure if Alteans had binary genders, or if they were more genderfluid. But considering their ability to shapeshift, he supposed that gender was something flexible to them.

“And Lance is the only omega?”

“Yes.” Shiro nodded. “He’ll have heats – a counterpart to alpha ruts. I’m… concerned that maybe his omega scent, or his dynamic in of itself, will draw the attention of unwanted strangers. Omegas can be quite alluring, especially when they’re close to heat. I have no doubt he can take care of himself, but it’s just something to keep in mind.”

“How will we know when he’s close to heat?”

“Trust me, you’ll know.”

Shiro didn’t like to admit it, but a lot of his concern came from a place a little deeper in his heart than it may have seemed. Something about Lance drew him in, something that was more than just his status as an omega. Sure, Lance could be annoying sometimes, but who wasn’t?

And Lance had the prettiest blue eyes. Shiro had never seen anything so blue.

When he thought about it, he was sure he fell for Lance slowly. Without realising it. One day, when Lance was laughing at something Shiro had said, and Shiro was smiling at Lance’s laugh, he realised that he loved the omega. It must have shown in his scent, or on his face, because Lance’s laughter had quietened, and he’d looked at Shiro with a hopeful, flustered expression.

It was safe to say that their affection for one another was mutual.

Regardless, it took the Alteans a little while to get used to the dual gender dynamics of humans. When Lance’s heat did come around, they were incredibly perplexed by Lance’s instincts. Shiro almost didn’t notice – he was used to gender instincts, and since he (secretly) viewed Lance as his precious omega, he was rather keenly watching his omega do his thing. So much so that he almost missed the startled looks of the Alteans.

During one meeting, Lance came up behind him, and fisted his hands in Shiro’s black jacket. Shiro could smell his scent before Lance came into view, and had half-taken it off before his omega came to fetch it. Lance’s scent was ripening, becoming sweeter, more enticing. It made Shiro feel all stirred up in side.

“I want this,” Lance said, insistently tugging on Shiro’s jacket. He sent Shiro a pleading look, blue eyes a little misted over, doing his best to give Shiro a sad pout.

“Hold on,” Shiro soothed, as he finished threading his arms out of his jacket. 

Lance had it in his hands the moment Shiro’s fingers left his sleeve, holding it tight to his chest as he gave Shiro a little smile. “Thanks.”

Shiro had intended to go back to the conversation he was having with Allura and Coran as if nothing had happened – to him, nothing significant had. He knew that omegas built nests close to their heat, and that Lance was probably doing just that, so he expected Lance to come after his clothes sooner or later.

To someone without secondary gender dynamics, he supposed that it would be strange.

“Did Lance just steal your jacket?” Allura asked, eyes comically wide. “Right off your back?”

Shiro was a little embarrassed. He shrugged a shoulder, giving Allura a small smile. “It’s just an omega thing.”

Allura blinked, sharing a look with Coran.

That wasn’t the end of it. Lance’s scent was making the other pack members more aware of him, and more drawn to him than usual. Pidge in particular was quite affected – she was more affectionate with Lance than usual, and let him cuddle up to her on the couch, purring in contentment. Shiro was proud to see his omega so beloved by their pack, and admittedly a little amused by the surprised looks the Alteans had.

He probably should have warned them that Lance would go after their things, too.

“Where did you get that?” Shiro asked Lance one evening, when he brought supplies to Lance’s room – plenty of water, and some of the special protein bars Hunk had been making. Lance would go into heat properly soon, and while Shiro wouldn’t be spending it with him (their relationship was still new, still fragile and soft), he wanted to make sure his omega had everything he needed.

Lance’s nest was almost finished. A large collection of fabrics had been piled onto the floor, including blankets from all of their team members, jackets, t-shirts, pillows from Pidge’s room and even Coran’s apron, which explained why he’d been complaining about it going missing last night.

The object in question, however, was none of those things. No, it was one of Allura’s dresses.

Lance gave him a guilty, stricken look as he touched one hand to the dress, as if he was frightened Shiro might take it off of him. It was at the bottom end of his nest, as where most of the more loved of his borrowed items – there, they would be safe from any mess he might make during his heat. Easily washable and replaceable items would be the ones directly under Lance.

“I took it from Allura’s room,” Lance admitted. He looked ashamed, and nervously clenched his fingers in Allura’s dress, before quickly smoothing out the wrinkles. “Should I give it back…?”

Shiro’s heart twisted at the sad note in Lance’s scent, and drew his concerned omega closer, putting one hand on the back of Lance’s head. “No, it’s alright. I can explain to her why you have it. She won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

Shiro kissed Lance’s forehead, letting himself linger for a moment, delighted by Lance’s ever-sweetening scent. “Of course she won’t mind, love.”

Lance let out a pleased little chirp, burrowing his nose against Shiro’s collarbones.

As it turned out, Allura was well aware of the fate of her dress. 

“I saw him sneaking into my room to get it,” she admitted, when Shiro approached her about the issue. “But I didn’t say anything. It’s an omega thing, right?”

“It is,” Shiro told her. “Thank you for not interrupting him. He would have been really upset if you’d told him he couldn’t have it.”

“What’s he doing, exactly?”

“Building a nest.” Shiro rolled a hand, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “Omegas build nests before their heat so that they have somewhere comforting to spend their most vulnerable time. They usually pad it out with fabrics, or things that have a special meaning to them. They want the scents of their most trusted companions with them to make them feel safe.”

“I’m guessing that’s where Coran’s apron went, too.”

Shiro laughed a little. “Yeah, sorry about that too. But Lance just wants the scents of his whole pack with him.”

Allura’s eyebrows inched up. “He thinks we’re pack?”

“Well, we all do.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck. He often forgot that the Alteans didn’t experience pack bonds or scents like the rest of them did. “You and Coran smell like us, and have a valued position in our dynamic. You’re as much a member of our pack as we are.”

She grinned at him, looking flushed. “We’re a family,” she said.

“We are,” he agreed, pleased. “That does mean you’ll have to sacrifice your clothes for the pack omega, though.”

Her laugh was boisterous and uncaring.

Shiro returned to spend the evening in Lance’s nest with his mate. He’d wait until Lance’s heat hit before leaving, knowing Lance would appreciate the company. 

It was true what he’d told to Allura. They were pack, all of them. Lance’s nesting habits proved that, though Shiro would have thought the same anyway. He knew that their pack had unbreakable bonds and he couldn’t have ever asked for better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering writing shiro/adam/lance at some point, because I think their relationship could be interesting... I normally write whatever pairing I want, but that is one I'm curious to see if there's interest for?


	53. Adam/Lance/Shiro - Jealous

The noise of the café was a comfortable chatter. Lance drifted in and out, listening to the hum of coffee machines and the clinks of teacups against saucers in between the threads of conversation his friends were having.

It was rather hypnotic. He knew his heat was coming up, and that it was probably making him a little more placid than usual, but he didn’t particularly mind. When he was with all his friends, he felt safe and content. And besides, he was wearing scent-blocking perfume, which shouldn’t wear off for a while yet. 

A waitress brought over a fresh round of drinks for them, and slid plates of food onto the table. Lance glanced up at her, blinking, as she laid a wedge of chocolate cake on a delicate white plate in front of him. She gave him a friendly smile at his confused look, and didn’t say anything as he said, “But I didn’t order…”

“It’s alright,” Adam – Shiro’s mate – cut in, as he leaned across the table to speak to Lance. “I ordered it for you.”

Lance tried not to flush, but very likely failed. He offered Adam a small smile. “You don’t mind…?”

“Go ahead,” Adam encouraged. 

Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He settled back into the booth their group shared and used the little fork that came with the plate to eat his cake. It tasted delicious, as expected. Their group – Lance secretly thought of his friends as a pack – visited this café often because it had soft, padded booths big enough to seat them all, and a relaxed, pleasing environment. The food was good, there was always soft music in the background, and the staff didn’t mind how long they stayed so long as they ordered something.

“So how has Shay been?” Pidge asked, giving Hunk a teasing leer out of the corner of their eyes. “Any news?”

Hunk went red, and spluttering out something unintelligent. “She’s fine!”

Pidge’s grin widened.

Lance found himself smiling, too. Hunk was slowly, slowly starting to court Shay, a beta they knew from one of their classes. Hunk had been crushing on her for a while, and to everyone else, it was clear Shay liked him too. After all, what wasn’t to like? Not only was Hunk genuinely kind, but he was supportive, and he had a very gentle beta scent, something most people found attractive. 

“You should ask her out,” Lance said. “She’d say yes.”

His words received nods of approval from their friends, even Keith, who usually wasn’t too interested in these sorts of conversations. 

“I don’t know how,” Hunk admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. It seemed like he was going to ignore his embarrassment in favour of getting some advice, which just proved how serious he was about Shay. “Any tips, Shiro?”

Shiro looked up at the sound of his name, puzzled. “What?”

“How did you ask Adam out? Or did he ask you?”

“Oh, I’m curious to know as well.” Allura leaned closer, resting her chin on her threaded figures. “Do tell.”

“Since when did this become about me?”

“Come on, Shiro,” Adam grinned, leaning up against Shiro’s side, “you can tell them.”

Lance tried to hide his hopeless smile behind another mouthful of cake. He’d had a bit of a… well, for lack of a better word, a crush on Shiro for ages. He’d always admired Shiro, but lately it had turned to something more. The alpha had proven himself to be thoughtful and caring in a way that was deeply attractive to Lance. He always had everyone else’s best interests at heart, and didn’t let anyone’s dynamics define how he viewed them. Rather, he valued a person’s deeds, and that was something Lance loved about him.

He always thought that he should have been disappointed when Shiro and Adam got together. After all, the alpha he’d been pining for had chosen a beta, and was incredibly happy with him.

But Lance wasn’t disappointed at all.

No, he developed a big, unrelenting crush on Adam, too. 

Sometimes, Lance thought Adam behaved more like an alpha than a beta. He was very direct, and very forward about what he wanted. He wasn’t afraid to tease and was very good at controlling situations that needed a firm hand. But he was quite playful too, and very openly affectionate with Shiro. Lance loved seeing them together more than he should have, more than a normal friend would. 

It probably didn’t help that he found them both incredibly attractive. Shiro, with his starlight-white hair and broad shoulders; Adam, with his stylish glasses and smooth, flawless skin. They both had equally enticing scents – Shiro’s strong and stable, pure protective alpha; Adam’s invitingly gentle, spiking with surprising sweetness when he was happy or pleased. What wasn’t there to like about them? 

He didn’t dare hope that they’d ever be interested in him, though. He didn’t even know if either one of them were even interested in omegas in the first place.

“Well, I did actually ask him,” Adam said, when it became clear Shiro wasn’t going to say anything. “Because it was clear he wasn’t ever going to get the nerve to do it himself.”

“I was going to,” Shiro protested. “You beat me to it.”

“Uh huh. But I’d just say to do what feels natural,” Adam told Hunk. “You guys are close, right? You know what she likes. If you want to make it special, do something to impress her.”

Lance didn’t think Hunk had to do much to impress Shay. He’d already done that; she’d seen how he was more than willing to stand up for those who needed him in the past. Lance was pretty sure Hunk could just straight up ask Shay to court and she’d still say yes, no matter how unromantic it was. That was one of the things he liked about her, how down to earth and positive she was.

Hunk appreciated the advice though. He turned to Lance, who was sitting beside him, and asked, “What do you think I should do?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Haven’t you asked someone to court before?”

Lance flushed. He was known for being a flirt – something he’d proudly admit, because he loved people, and he loved making people feel good about themselves – but he’d never done that before. He squirmed in his seat instead of answering Hunk’s questions.

Allura’s eyebrows shot up at his silence. “You haven’t?”

“No,” he admitted, “but so what?”

“You’ve had people ask you to court though, right?” Hunk continued. “What about that guy last week? The alpha from the boardwalk?”

Lance really didn’t want to think about that. He and Hunk had been walking down by the beach when an alpha from their class had come up to Lance to ask him to court. He was a nice guy, but Lance wasn’t interested, so he’d turned the alpha down. Even if he had no chance with Shiro and Adam, he still hadn’t gotten over his crush on them.

Unbidden, he snuck a glance at the pair. Shiro’s expression had turned stiff, and Adam was frowning.

Lance felt his heart sink. They probably thought he was too much of a flirt, didn’t they? Some people didn’t like omegas who were as flirtatious like Lance was.

“I have standards, you know,” he joked, hoping that he didn’t sound as uncomfortable as he was. 

Thankfully, the conversation moved on, and Lance was able to sink into his seat. He felt like his heart had jumped into his throat, and when the feeling didn’t abate, he wondered if there was something more to it.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” he told Hunk, as he slipped out of the booth, glad that he was sitting at the end. “Be right back.”

The cool air in the bathroom helped ease the heat in his cheeks. Lance stood by the sinks, his hands held under cold water, as he took a quiet moment to assess himself. His scent was becoming stronger, a little more prominent, and the fluttering feeling in his stomach indicated that his heat was coming along a little faster than he’d anticipated. He’d go into pre-heat for at least a week beforehand, so it wasn’t like he had to run home, but it did make him feel a little uneasy.

Suddenly, the scent of an alpha reached his nose – a stranger. He frowned and turned the sink off, wondering if his incoming heat cycle was making him jumpier than usual. His stomach felt like it had shrivelled, and he had the sudden urge to get away. He told himself to act normal, to dry his hands as if nothing was wrong, but something proved to be very wrong indeed.

There was an alpha standing in the doorway to the bathroom, blocking his only exit. Lance hovered awkwardly, wanting to leave, but the alpha let the door shut behind himself.

Lance backed up a step.

“Well what do we have here?” the alpha asked, licking his lips. “You smell so good, omega.”

Lance grimaced. He hated people like this – the ones that still thought that omegas would swoon at a simple compliment, like they should be honoured someone was paying attention to them. There weren’t that many pig-headed alphas around, at least not many willing to actually open their mouths, but being near heat always seemed to draw them out. 

“Excuse me,” he said, gesturing to the door.

“You don’t want to talk to me?” the alpha crooned, tilting his head to the side. “Come on, now. Don’t be a prude.”

Lance tensed, his scent going thick with apprehension. “You’re in the way.”

The alpha reached out to grab Lance by the wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise. “Now is that anyway to talk to someone?” he growled, as he yanked Lance closer by the arm.

“Let go of me!”

“I don’t think so, omega.”

Lance growled, but the sound was drawn out by the infuriated snarl that came from the doorway. 

“Don’t touch him,” Adam snapped, as he grabbed the alpha by the wrist, jerking his hand around in a way that made the alpha yelp and let go of Lance, who stumbled backwards. Adam grabbed him by the waist, balancing him. Lance didn’t miss the way Adam put himself in between Lance and the strange alpha.

The alpha puffed up, clearly angered. “Who are you, his bitch?” 

Adam’s scent turned sharp and sour, so overwhelming that Lance couldn’t help but whimper. “I suggest you leave,” he said, low and terrifyingly even, “and if you _ever_ touch him again, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I’d do as he says,” Shiro said from the doorway. He towered over the intruding alpha, every inch of him tense with pure alpha strength. “My beta has no patience for people like you.”

Lance had never seen an alpha hightail it out of somewhere so fast.

Adam rounded on him, still holding Lance by the waist with one arm, the other going to grip Lance’s bruised wrist. “Are you alright?” he asked, as he pressed closer, eyes searching every inch of Lance they could. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?”

When he spotted Lance’s wrist, he let out a low growl.

“Adam,” Shiro soothed, stepping closer.

That seemed to shake Adam back to himself. “I- I have to apologise, Lance. I didn’t mean to–”

“To what? Save me?” Lance croaked. He knew that some would find it offensive when others jumped to their rescue like that, especially when it was an alpha treating an omega like a damsel in distress, but he didn’t feel that way. He’d never been so relieved in his life.

“No, not that.” Adam offered him a wry smile. He glanced at where his hands were still on Lance. “I… didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No.” He wasn’t hurt, but he was definitely confused. It must have shown in his scent, because Shiro and Adam shared a look, speaking words without having to actually say anything.

Adam seemed to come to a decision. “Well, I already did it once, I can do it again,” he said to Shiro, before turning to Lance. “Can we court you, Lance?”

It took a moment for the question to register. “What?” he spluttered.

“Courting. Dating. Whatever you want to call it.” Adam was sounding more amused by the second as tension eased out of him. His scent returned to normal too, despite the low buzz of protectiveness hiding just beneath the surface. “I want you.”

“Adam,” Shiro admonished, looking both exasperated and embarrassed. He put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, gently separating him from Adam, giving him the space to think both physically and mentally. “What he means is that we would like to form a triad with you, if you’re interested. It’s completely up to you of course, and you can say no. It’s your choice.”

“But…” Lance didn’t understand. Why him? Why would such a perfect pair want him to join them? “Why?”

“Because we like you,” Shiro told him. “A lot. We have for a while, but we didn’t know how to ask. Adam – as you can probably tell – gets impatient.”

“Impatience got me an alpha, didn’t it?” Adam retorted, amused. “Who’s to say it won’t get me this perfect omega, too?”

“Perfect?” Lance squeaked.

Adam just grinned, looking as innocent as ever, as if he wasn’t turning Lance to mush on the inside. “So?”

“Adam,” Shiro said again. “You don’t have to decide now, Lance.”

“I want to,” Lance exclaimed, before he could stop himself. He went bright red. “I mean… I like you too. Both of you.”

Adam smiled. “So that’s a yes?”

Lance wondered if the two of them had really been trying to court him all along. Little things were starting to make sense – the way they looked out for him, how Shiro always made sure he texted him when he got home after their group went out at night, how Adam always bought little things for Lance, like the chocolate cake. Things a mated pair would usually do to please an omega. 

He suddenly felt very warm all over. “Yes.”

Shiro grinned, and leaned down to nuzzle Lance’s hair.

Adam lifted Lance’s wrist to his mouth, passing his lips over the forming bruise. “Now I have a reason to chase off all the people who stare at you,” he said, smelling honey-thick with a sweetness that complimented Shiro’s deeper scent. “My omega.”

“People don’t stare,” Lance protested.

“Oh they most certainly do.”

“He can be quite jealous,” Shiro whispered. “Adam isn’t the type of person to share.”

“Damn right I’m not,” he muttered, indignant. “Someone else getting their grubby paws all over my alpha and omega? Don’t even think about it.”

Lance was so overwhelmed all he could do was grin. He didn’t think he could have felt protected than he did then. “You really want to court me?”

“Definitely,” Adam reassured. 

“Let’s get back to the table before they start wondering where we are,” Shiro encouraged, one hand on each of their backs as he ushered them out. “We will definitely pick up this conversation later, yeah? There’s no rush.”

Lance nodded. He felt calmer, despite all the eager excitement swelling up in him. 

They hadn’t thought he was too much of a flirt. They were just jealous that someone else had asked to court him. 

He’d been wrong about how unrequited his pining had been, but he’d never been gladder to be wrong in his whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very curious about what you think of the dynamics in this - I can pretty much see Adam as anything, since we got so little of him in the show. But I really like the idea of Adam seeing Lance and going "yes I want that one please" ^^


	54. Adam/Lance/Shiro - Shared

Shiro was quiet as he padded downstairs, freshly showered but still sleepy. He made sure there was enough water in the kettle for three before flicking it on leaning against the counter to yawn as he waited for the water to boil. When he listened for the house of someone moving upstairs, he was pleased to hear only quiet. He doubted either one of his boyfriends would be getting up for a while, at least not without a little bribing to convince them.

A little smile came to his face as he thought about the previous night. Adam had been on a work trip for the past two weeks, and he and Lance had missed him terribly. It just wasn’t the same when one of them wasn’t home. The house felt too quiet. Every meal was portioned for three, not two. They were lonely when they weren’t all together every evening.

Nevertheless, Adam had returned yesterday afternoon, so they’d stayed at home holed up together. Lance always seemed to feel their absence the most, so he’d stuck himself to Adam’s side and had yet to let go. Shiro had woken up to one of Lance’s arms around him, with Lance having tossed the other over Adam while he slept. He could be quite the octopus, and usually spread his limbs in every direction, but that night he’d grabbed them both and hadn’t let go.

Shiro got to making breakfast for the three of them. He made bacon and eggs, knowing the scent would lure his boyfriends out. Sure enough, they came wandering down in less than twenty minutes, drawn by the scent of cooking food. 

“Good morning,” Shiro greeted.

“Morning,” Lance mumbled around a yawn, looking mostly asleep still. He wasn’t much of a morning person.

Adam seemed to be faring a little better. His hair was all messed up from sleeping, and there were slight indentations on his cheek from where it had been flat against his pillow, but he looked happy and content as he watched Shiro cook.

They probably wouldn’t get much done today, either, but that was okay. Shiro knew that at some point they’d have to go grocery shopping, and that they needed to change the bed sheets too, but those chores had gone on the backburner in favour of spending time with Adam. Two weeks was a lot of time to miss someone, and Shiro was glad he was home now.

So for now, all he did was focus on pleasing his boyfriends. He served breakfast, and when they’d all finished eating, followed in Lance’s footsteps, cuddling up as close to Adam as comfortably possible. Luckily for him, Adam had no problem with them practically draping themselves all over him. He was quite an affectionate guy, and loved it when they were all close together like that. It was a sentiment they all shared.

He was looking forwards to spending the day doing nothing but being with the two people he loved the most.


	55. Lance/Shiro - Tangles

Shiro tried to hold in his laughter. Every time he dragged a comb back through Lance’s hair, his mate let out a disgruntled noise, each becoming more indignant than the last. There were tangles that he wanted to brush free, but he was too exhausted, so he’d asked Shiro to help. Shiro, of course, had agreed. Even he knew how important Lance’s hair was to him, and to be trusted to brush it was rather flattering.

“How does that feel?” Shiro asked. 

Lance let out a low hum, tilting his head back into Shiro’s hands. 

“Good, huh?” A grin came to Shiro’s face. He leaned down to press his nose into Lance’s hair, breathing in his omega’s pleased scent. “How’s your headache now?”

“Better,” Lance admitted. He peered up at Shiro and tried to smile, though it was clear he was exhausted. “Thank you, alpha.”

Shiro knew Lance was teasing him, but he was still struck by a jolt of arousal in the pit of his stomach. Lance knew what that word did to him and he was more than willing to use it. Shiro tried not to squirm, feeling worked up even though he knew Lance was not in the mood. “You’re mean,” he complained.

“Don’t pout,” Lance laughed, leaning back into Shiro’s chest. “I can’t take advantage of your cuteness today.”

Shiro set aside Lance’s comb and sat down beside him on the edge of their bed. He urged Lance to rest back against the sheets, and watched his omega make himself comfortable, snuffling into Shiro’s pillow as he did so. Shiro fixed Lance’s hair with his fingertips, making sure the strands wouldn’t get too tangled again. 

“How about you rest for a while, instead?” Shiro suggested, trailing his fingertips down Lance’s neck to his shoulder, exposed by the slipping sleeve of his singlet. “You can take advantage of my cuteness later.”

“I am definitely going to do that,” Lance muttered. “The second thing. The first too, but I meant the second thing.”

It was impossible to muffle his laughter at that.

“You should pity me more,” Lance said, blinking his eyes open at Shiro languidly. “Your poor mate, unable to ravish you. All that attractiveness going to waste.”

“I could say the same about you,” Shiro said. “Such a pretty omega, stuck in bed all day. Not around for me to stare longingly at.”

Lance grinned sleepily. “You can just stay here and stare at me.”

Shiro smiled. He knew it was just an off-handed comment, but he could see right through Lance’s humour. It was something he’d always been able to do. He knew that Lance hated being sick, and liked to be taken care of. “You know, maybe I will.” Shiro kept his voice light as he laid down beside his mate, putting one arm lightly over Lance’s waist. “Someone is always telling me I should nap more.”

“I’m always telling you that you should nap more.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over my napping.”

Lance giggled. He sounded less pained now, and when he cuddled closer to Shiro, he smelt less distressed. Being unwell always stressed Lance out, made him feel unproductive. He had to spend most of his time sleeping off whatever illness he’d caught, which made him fall behind on chores and things like that. 

Shiro let out a sigh, and closed his eyes, settling. He felt Lance inch closer, shifting around until he got comfortable, before he stilled. His only movement was the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

After a few minutes passed, Shiro opened his eyes again, and found Lance fast asleep. His omega was finally starting to look rested. Shiro knew that a little pampering would do the world of good for him – washing his face, changing the sheets, having his hair brushed. Lance soaked it all up like a sponge, and now he was relaxed enough to sleep. Shiro considered this a successful endeavour. 

Making sure his omega was happy and healthy would always be his top priority. If that meant he had to be by Lance’s side all day and night, so be it.

Besides, he wasn’t really going to complain about that.


	56. Keith/Lance - Cook

Keith knew he would never be a great cook. It wasn’t in his nature – he’d tried cooking before, several times in fact, and it never really worked out. He’d burnt cookies and overcooked pasta. It didn’t matter how simple the recipe, or how much help he had. The food he made was just never really anything spectacular. 

That’s why he was quite glad his boyfriend could cook.

Lance came from a whole family that could cook, pretty much. Whenever Keith visited, someone was always in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. His home always smelt nice. Somewhere along the way when he’d been growing up, he’d learned to cook from his parents and grandparents, and those skills had never deserted him.

There was something about coming home to dinner almost ready every evening that Keith grew to love. When he lived on his own, he learned to live on whatever was easiest to make. Microwave meals, simple sandwiches, salads. Foods that didn’t take a lot of effort, ingredients, or knowledge to make. It was bland and sometimes repetitive to eat, but it kept him healthy, so he’d never thought about changing his diet. Besides, he wouldn’t have known where to start.

But Lance had very different opinions on the matter. He had grown up in an environment where food was lovingly prepared, where it was more than just a simple meal. Food was more than just fuel for the body to him – it was an experience, a way to bring people together. 

Over the time they lived together, he taught Keith that, too.

Lance’s food was always full of flavour. When they’d moved in together, Keith’s pantry had been rather bare, and he hadn’t even known it. Lance filled it with spices and a dozen different types of pasta and all sorts of flours and sugars. He stocked Keith’s cupboards with cooking equipment like decent frying pans and whisks that could hold up under a beating and even a slow cooker. It was definitely an upgrade from what Keith had before. He even had a rolling pin now. 

It was strange to think how much his view on food had changed. Now he found himself thinking something was missing when he ate alone. When he made his own food, it wasn’t enjoyable to eat. He knew how to use a bunch of different ingredients now, so when he went grocery shopping, he felt a vague sense of guilt over buying normal, cheap stuff. 

He did try to learn to cook from Lance. He felt bad making Lance do all the cooking because Keith’s skills were inadequate. Some meals he could make well now – spaghetti bolognese wasn’t too difficult, and Lance had taught him how to make French toast for breakfast in the morning. But there wasn’t much else Keith could do in the kitchen, except wash dishes.

“It’s okay, you know,” Lance had said, when Keith brought it up one night, intending to apologise for making Lance cook for him all the time. “It’s not like I’m just cooking for you, anyway. I’m cooking for me too. And you do all the dishes by yourself, so it’s kind of even, isn’t it?”

Keith knew not to argue with Lance’s logic. He’d learned that food to Lance was a way of expressing how much he cared about someone – it was like that for his entire family. Lance felt like he was taking care of Keith when he cooked, in the same way Keith did when he did things for Lance. Maybe not the dishes, exactly, but grocery shopping for Lance, or folding Lance’s clothes, or something like that made him feel useful in a satisfying, homely way. 

He supposed that’s what really mattered, in the end. They’d learned to make their relationship into an equal give and take, learned where one had more skills than the other and balanced out the household duties. A lot of the roles they shared, but others not. In the end, it all worked out alright, and Keith liked it that well.

Even if it was just him and Lance for now, he felt like they were a proper family, and that’s what he’d always wanted.


	57. Adam/Lance/Shiro - Photos

It took Shiro less than two days to become hyper-aware of the sound of Adam creeping up the stairs. Any hint of him softly padding on the carpeted floor made Shiro perk up. Generally, hearing his beta go up to the bedroom wouldn’t have piqued Shiro’s interest, but… well. 

Lance had given birth to their first pup just under a week ago. He was still recovering, and understandably exhausted, so he spent a lot of time sleeping, or even simply resting in bed. Their pup was with him, nestled in the crib they had beside the bed. Lance’s instincts demanded that his baby stay near him, so one of his mates would take food up to the bedroom, and only take the baby out of Lance’s earshot after first telling him. 

Omegas could be quite protective of their pups, especially right after their birth. It was better to be safer than sorry, Shiro thought, especially if Lance’s instincts were unexpectedly triggered by something they hadn’t anticipated. 

It was as Shiro was preparing a bottle that he heard Adam trying to inch up the stairs again. He let out a knowing rumble, and perked a brow when Adam dragged himself into the kitchen, looking faintly chastised. Like Shiro expected, he had his phone in hand. “And what are you doing?” he asked, thoroughly amused, as he portioned out formula. 

“Nothing,” Adam said.

Shiro laughed quietly, shaking his head. They spent a few moments in companionable silence as he fixed the bottle, testing the temperature to make sure it was perfect. So far, their pup had stuck to a pretty stable schedule. After they’d worked out his routine, it had been easy to anticipate when he would wake up crying for food.

And, as if on cue, right as Shiro finished making up the bottle, whimpers came through on the baby monitor. Adam scooped it up, and followed Shiro up the stairs, right on his heels. 

Their pup, still unnamed – it wasn’t unusual for omegas to take a few days to name their pups – was squirming in his crib, cheeks going red. Adam went straight for the crib, setting aside the baby monitor in favour of gently lifting their pup into his arms. He let out a sweet, soft coo as their pup blinked up at him, huffing out little breaths of air.

Lance peered out from under the blankets, making an inquisitive noise. He looked exhausted, but like he’d been sleeping well. There were indents on his cheeks from his pillow, and his hair was in complete disarray. 

“You can go back to sleep, Lance,” Shiro said, as he sat on the edge of the bed, placing one hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

It was a testament to how much Lance trusted them with his pup when he instantly settled, curling up closer to Shiro with his eyes closed. After a few moments, his breathing evened, and he was asleep again. Shiro smiled down at him, feeling warm all over. 

Adam joined him on the bed, folding his legs under himself as he cradled their pup in his arms. Shiro handed him the bottle, and after a moment of resistance, Adam got their pup drinking. Sleepy, newborn-blue eyes stared up at Adam, completely infatuated.

Something about seeing so much adoration between his family members satisfied Shiro on every level possible. When they’d found out Lance was pregnant, he’d had the same worries most triad members had – that the arrival of the pup might spark competitive instincts, that his omega might be overwhelmed by the need to protect the baby above all else, that his beta might feel left out.

Statistically, it was more likely than an alpha would sire a child over a beta, just based on biology. Alphas had ruts that allowed them to keep up with an omega’s heat, but betas didn’t. Most of Lance’s heats saw Adam coming in and out rather than staying the entire time. Adam had assured him and Lance both that he didn’t mind, that he liked being able to take care of them in a way that wasn’t only sexual during heats, so Shiro didn’t worry too much. But he did worry that Adam might feel… left out, in some way, if the child wasn’t biologically his.

Of course, he didn’t have to worry about that, either.

Adam was a natural when it came to kids. Shiro had never seen anyone slip into the role of fatherhood as easily as Adam had. Not only did he have endless amounts of energy – often taking night shifts back to back without complaint – but he seemed to know what the pup wanted before even the pup knew. And then there was the way the baby looked at Adam, so curious and delighted by what he saw.

“It’s probably just my glasses,” Adam had said, when Shiro fondly mentioned it once.

“I think it’s just you,” Shiro had told him. He’d been rewarded by a very red-cheeked, proud beta. 

Shiro watched as Adam fed their pup. He liked watching them bond almost as much as he liked just staring at his precious son. He hoped the baby’s eyes would stay blue as he grew older, so that they would be just as blue as Lance’s eyes. It would complement his dark hair – something he’d clearly gotten from Shiro – and his pretty skin colour, something that was somewhere in between Lance’s tan and Shiro’s pale white.

He was probably biased, but he thought his pup was the most beautiful pup in the world.

It helped that his mates were the most beautiful people in the world, too.

“You’re going to be wrapped around his little finger,” Shiro said.

Adam smiled. He couldn’t look away from their pup. “Already am.”

Shiro shifted closer, leaning against Adam’s side to watch their pup drink. Those dark blue eyes moved over to him, and Shiro grinned, reaching one hand forwards to rub his pup’s cheek with a knuckle. “So cute.”

“He looks so much like Lance already,” Adam said. “Got his cute little nose and everything.”

“That he does.”

Adam smiled again. He leaned his head against Shiro’s, nuzzling him a little. “Who would have ever thought we’d have a pup, huh?”

Shiro returned his beta’s gentle affections. He’d been with Adam since they were teenagers. They’d had their ups and downs, but nothing could keep them apart. Meeting Lance had only seemed to make them fall more in love, both with each other and with Lance. To Shiro, it felt impossible that he could love his mates as much as he did. Every day he grew to love them more.

And now his heart had made room for their pup, too.

“I feel like I can’t thank Lance enough for giving me a pup,” Adam whispered. “Look how beautiful he is, Shiro. And he’s all ours.”

Shiro rumbled quietly, squeezing Adam’s waist. “I’m pretty sure if you keep doing the night feeds, Lance will consider himself thanked.”

“Very true,” Lance mumbled, as he sleepily wormed his way onto Shiro’s lap. He bent down to press a kiss to his pup’s forehead before resting against Shiro’s chest, looking ready to sleep again.

Adam leaned over to kiss Lance’s cheek in lieu of a reply, his homely beta scent washing over them. Shiro breathed it in, loving the way it combined with Lance’s sweet omega scent, and the clean, familiar scent of their baby. There was no better scent in the world.

Shiro couldn’t have been happier with the way his life was turning out. He had an amazing beta, a perfect omega, and the sweetest pup in the world to call his own. He felt safe in the knowledge that their love for one another was unconditional, even where instincts could have been involved. It was clear that the parentage of their pup – and any future pups – wouldn’t matter to Adam, and it wouldn’t matter to Shiro, either. He’d love a pup of Adam’s just as much as he loved the pup resting in Adam’s arms.

When the bottle was finished, Adam put it aside, and lifted their pup onto his chest to gently pat his back. Thankfully, nothing more than air came up this time, so Adam turned his head to nuzzle his pup, and rocked him until he fell asleep again. Even when the pup was sleeping, Adam still held him, making soft, low noises to keep him calm.

Eventually, he went to return their pup to his crib, so Shiro tucked Lance back into bed and picked up the baby monitor. 

He turned to leave the room, expecting Adam to be waiting for him, but instead he found Adam leaning over the crib, phone in hand.

Shiro tried not to roll his eyes, and laughed under his breath. “Adam!”

Adam grinned sheepishly. 

That was the reason why Shiro had grown so used to listening out for Adam going up the stairs. Every chance he got, he took photos of their pup, and Lance too. There had to be several hundred already stored on his phone and their pup wasn’t even a week old yet.

“One more, one more,” Adam promised. 

Shiro sighed, but he was still smiling. He knew he’d never be able to stop Adam from taking the thousands of photos he wanted, even if most of them were the same. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t taken dozens himself.

“Come on, let’s let them rest,” Shiro said, as he urged Adam away from the crib.

Adam pouted up at him. “Spoil sport.”

Shiro just laughed.


	58. Keith/Lance - Window

No matter what Shiro said, Keith didn’t used to sneak out of the house. He’d ask permission if he wanted to go somewhere, and generally stuck to the curfew Shiro set. He may have not been responsible when it came to other things – like school, for example – but he had no reason to leave the house. 

He had a reason now, though.

Lance lived a few streets over. He had a big family with three siblings aside from himself, so his home was always busy, and there was usually always something going on. That meant if Lance was unexpectedly quiet, or if he seemed to be doing something in his bedroom, no one went in to check on him. It was easier to leave him alone to do his thing that to interrupt.

Which meant, in a roundabout way, that Lance’s bedroom was a great place to hang out if they didn’t want to be caught. 

Keith wasn’t sure why they were keeping their relationship hidden. They’d been together for a month now, though they’d known each other for years. He’d met Lance’s family, and Lance knew Shiro. Keith doubted that their families would disapprove, even if neither one of them had really… come out, or anything. Keith was pretty sure Shiro was already aware of the fact that he was gay. Shiro tended to know these things without having to be told.

But Keith wasn’t going to say anything if Lance wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he was ready in the first place either.

So, for the time being, sneaking into Lance’s bedroom was one of the only times they got to be alone together. Sometimes Lance would come over to Keith’s after school, when Shiro was still at work and wouldn’t be home for a few hours. That was always preferable into climbing through Lance’s window, but it wasn’t like Keith was going to say no to seeing Lance.

Even if he’d been with Lance all day when their friend group was together, it wasn’t the same as being with him when it was just themselves. He didn’t get to hold Lance’s hand when they were around others, or laugh at Lance’s jokes even if they were horrible, or look at Lance for as long as he wanted to. If hauling himself up into Lance’s window was the price he had to pay to do that, then he was more than willing to do it.

Besides, it wasn’t like Lance never snuck over to Keith’s house, either. His house was only a single story, so it was significantly easier to get into his window – Lance wasn’t required to scale latticework to get to a second level like Keith was. The only reason Keith went to Lance’s more often was because of how observant Shiro was. He’d notice straight away if someone else was in the house, even if Lance was as quiet as a mouse.

The effort was worth it. 

Keith wanted to see Lance no matter what.


	59. Keith/Lance - Hands

“Hold still, Keith,” Lance chastised, as he held the nail polish brush away from Keith’s fidgeting fingers. “I’d rather not have to clean up a mistake one very finger.”

Keith mumbled something unintelligible, looking faintly reprimanded as he made an effort to hold himself still. Painting his nails was proving to be an effort Lance almost regretted going through – almost. But this was his reward for winning a bet over Keith, so he was going to enjoy it to his fullest. A day of pampering both himself and his boyfriend was just what he needed to relax.

That morning, he’d made Keith put on face masks with him. He thought Keith secretly liked it, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He probably didn’t like it when Lance tied all his hair up on top of his head so that it was out of his face, though. It looked sort of like a pineapple and was the cutest thing ever, especially with the soft scrunchie Lance used.

Following face masks had come a manicure, something that Keith tolerated, but Lance enjoyed immensely. He had a… thing for Keith’s hands. They were handsome hands, as far as hands went. Boyish, his knuckles prominent, pretty calloused from the work he did on his motorcycle. Strong but capable of being soft and gentle when he wanted them to. They felt nice on Lance’s skin, and his fingers fit perfectly between Lance’s, like there was nowhere else they could possibly need to be.

There was something delightfully romantic about the notion behind thinking his boyfriend’s hands fit perfectly in his own, and vice versa.

After Lance had cleaned and shaped Keith’s nails, he’d brought out the polishes, and chosen a firetruck red especially for Keith. Since red was Keith’s favourite colour, and the colour he liked to wear most often, Lance figured that it was the perfect polish for his nails. He wasn’t sure if Keith had ever had his nails painted before, but the way he was staring at his own hand, like it was something strange, suggested that he hadn’t.

He personally thought there was something relaxing about the process of painting nails, even if he was the one doing it. Even if there were mistakes, it was nothing that a bit of nail polish remover couldn’t fix right up. And it was always great to watch Keith’s face as he considered the polish – he didn’t really know what to think and Lance found that incredibly amusing. 

“Seriously, hold still,” he laughed, as Keith’s fingers twitched yet again.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbled. There was a small smile on his face too, one that was hiding in the corners of his lips, like he wasn’t aware that it was there. “It sort of tickles.”

Lance ducked his head to hide a grin. Keith must’ve been enjoying himself if he was so distracted, and that was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. He loved pampering days, and sharing that with his boyfriend was the best.


	60. Lance/Shiro - Mutual

“You didn’t have to walk me home, you know,” Lance said, still thoroughly embarrassed. He watched his hand swing back and forth between them, warmly clasped with Shiro’s. His palm was definitely sweaty but Shiro either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Shiro laughed quietly. There was a splash of colour on his cheeks that had been there for a while, one that wasn’t going away. “I wanted to,” he assured Lance, smiling. “I get to spend more time with you, this way.”

Something about Shiro’s uninhibited honesty made Lance’s racing pulse settle. It was just so Shiro. He’d known the man for years now, but they’d only just started dating, so everything felt new and fragile. This was one of the parts of dating that Lance liked the best, the part when he knew the person he was dating was just as into him as he was into them. It was a sense of mutual infatuation. 

And to get that from Shiro was absolutely riveting. He’d been crushing on Shiro for ages, but he’d never expected that Shiro would like him back. Why would he? He was a few years older than Lance, and definitely more mature. He was so handsome Lance felt like he’d been robbed of his breath every time Shiro entered the room. Compared to that, Lance was immature and noisy, and a little lame.

Shiro didn’t seem to think so, though, not from what Lance had gathered. Shiro was still looking at Lance out of the corner of his eye, like he thought Lance hadn’t noticed. 

So far, their dates had been really chill. They’d gone out to a café for brunch for their first date, and spent their second walking around the city, ducking into bookshops and clothing stores. They hadn’t had to go through the awkward, getting to know each other phase because they’d already been friends for years. Of course, there was still the strangeness of getting to kiss someone he’d thought of as a friend for a long time, but Lance’s meteor-sized crush on Shiro helped with that.

That day, they’d met up to have lunch down at the beach, which was only a fifteen minute walk from Lance’s house. He hadn’t driven, just because it was more common for him to walk, and he didn’t want his nosy family members to get suspicious. He and Shiro were keeping their relationship quiet for now, just between them. None of their friends knew, and Lance’s family didn’t know, though he was sure his older sister suspected something. 

It made Lance wonder if Shiro wanted to meet his family – not as a friend, but as a boyfriend. Shiro had driven to the beach, but he was making the effort to walk Lance all the way back to his home, even if that meant Shiro had to walk back to the beach by himself. Maybe he was hinting at something?

Lance bit his lip, and glanced up at Shiro. “My family will be home,” he said.

“Oh?” Shiro did his best to look casual, blinking his gorgeous brown eyes. 

Lance felt a smile steal across his face. He could see right through Shiro’s innocent act. “That okay?”

“If you don’t mind…”

“I don’t.”

Shiro went redder, but he was smiling too.

“Veronica is going to break out at least the first thousand questions she’s stored up,” Lance warned. “Just so you know.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Lance doubted that any man – even one as perfect as Shiro – could handle the wrath of a strong-willed Cuban woman, but he kept that thought to himself. 

“And your brothers?” Shiro asked. “Not going to get protective over you, are they?”

“Well, Luis should be fine,” Lance said, thinking fondly of his younger brother. His older brother, however… “But Marco might. He likes to think he’s the leader of us kids, but really, it’s Veronica you have to watch out for. Trust me.”

Shiro laughed. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” He pulled Lance closer, putting a heavy arm around his shoulders. “I’m excited to meet them.”

“You have met them before,” Lance pointed out.

“Not like this,” Shiro shrugged. Incredibly, he was still flushed, his cheeks a delicate red. It made something warm and happy squirm in Lance’s stomach. He’d dated before, but no one had ever made him feel like Shiro did. Being with Shiro felt like something he’d never get tired of. Something permanent. 

Just the thought of that made Lance go red, too. He cuddled against Shiro’s side to hide his persistent embarrassment, his fingers squeezing Shiro’s where they were still connected. He was looking forwards to Shiro meeting his family as his boyfriend.

Knowing that Shiro wanted to – had thought about it by himself – meant more than anything to him.


	61. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Salve

“Hold him still, Keith,” Lance instructed, throwing a look over his shoulder. “Can you do it?”

Keith grunted. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his shoulders were tense with the strain of keeping Shiro held down. “Just hurry,” Keith forced out. “He’s stronger than I am.”

Lance winced. A blue glow surrounded his hands, leeching down into the bowl cradled in his arms. Water sloshed over the side in his effort to make the potion faster. Everything was almost ready – the purified water, the crushed petals, the solar dust. His magic would speed up the mixing process, but even then Lance felt like he was running out of time.

The wound on Shiro’s arm was violent. Blood had seeped through his clothes, pooled on the table beneath him, and was busy dripping onto the floor. Lance didn’t know if it would ever come out of the wood, but at that point, he didn’t care. He just wanted to make Shiro better.

“Alright, it’s done,” Lance said, out of breath. He moved to the table and dipped his hand in the bowl, collecting the watery salve into his palm. “It’s gonna sting.”

“Just do it,” Keith hissed.

Lance did. He shoved his palm against Shiro’s wound, ignoring the feel of slick blood beneath his palm. Shiro gave a pitched scream, his body twisting, hands squeezing the table so hard it groaned. Keith struggled against him, throwing his weight against Shiro to keep him pinned. The salve started working instantly – water fey magic was perfect for healing. It cleansed the wound, glowing blue, flushing away the blood that stained his pale skin.

“Is it working?” Keith asked, worried eyes meeting Lance’s. Shiro was settling, his groans turning into weak, gasping breathes. The furrow in his brow was slowly but surely easing.

“Yeah, I think so.” Lance applied another handful, carefully smoothing it over the wound. After a minute, the blue glow brightened again, and the wound began to seal shut. “How warm is he?”

Keith put a hand on Shiro’s forehead. “Better than before.”

“Good.” Lance applied the last handful, and then set the bowl aside, rocking back against his workbench as his knees buckled. Using so much magic took a lot out of him, but he’d do anything to help either one of his mates. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Keith snapped, reaching one hand out to steady Lance. “Come sit over here.”

Too tired to argue, Lance dragged a chair closer to the table, and slumped in it. Keith put a hand on the back of his neck, letting Lance lean against him. He kept the other one on Shiro. Even if Shiro was unconscious, Lance was sure that having his mates near would comfort him. It would take a few hours of rest until Shiro would wake up, but at least he would. The wound had been deep, and knowing he’d gotten it trying to protect them… Lance’s stomach wrenched just thinking about it.

“If you need to sleep, go ahead,” Keith said. He bent down to press a kiss to Lance’s head, lingering for a long moment. “You worked hard.”

Lance made a noncommittal noise, turning his face into Keith’s stomach. “Wake me up if something happens,” he murmured, eyes closing.

“I will,” Keith assured him. “I won’t let anything happen to him, or you. I promise.”

Lance made another small noise, pressing closer. He knew Keith’s instincts were on high, that he’d do anything to keep them safe. Shiro would be okay. He’d be okay.

They’d all be okay.


	62. Keith/Lance - Heater

The heat in the entire apartment building had gone out sometime around midday. Keith hadn’t been too worried then, because despite the fact that it was the middle of winter, the day had been fairly warm. There was sun, and aside from the wind – which admittedly had a chilling bite – it wasn’t as freezing as it had been the week prior, for example.

He wouldn’t say he was much a fan of the cold, however. He did like warm weather better, especially when it meant he didn’t have to layer up in several jackets just to keep the cold away. He definitely didn’t like snow, but he could handle a bit of cold alright. It didn’t bother him much. That evening, when the chill started to creep inside and the heat still hadn’t been fixed, he threw on a few extra layers, wore his thickest pair of socks, and he was set.

Lance, however, was not.

Keith’s boyfriend was definitely a summer child. He thrived in the warm, and loved when it was hot. His ideal trip out was to the beach, where he could soak up the sun like a sponge. When winter came, he’d bury himself in so many layers he resembled a snowball more than a man.

And because the heat still hadn’t been turned back on, Lance was becoming quite cold.

To be honest, even Keith was feeling the chill. Nights saw the temperature plummet, even if the day had been alright. They usually kept their heater on in the evening, and set it to turn on early in the morning so that the house would be warm when they woke up. They couldn’t do that when the heater wasn’t working, so they’d spent the evening curled up on the couch under a mountain of blankets.

Lance had gone to bed earlier than Keith, so when Keith retired, he wasn’t too surprised to find Lance shivering in his sleep. There was a strange twinge in his chest as he went to fetch their spare blankets. He filled up an old hot water bottle they had, even took the thin throw blanket off the back of the couch, knowing that every little layer would help.

He was careful not to wake Lance as he put everything down on the bed. Although he hated peeling back the covers, he did so quickly, just for long enough to slot the hot water bottle against the arched curve of Lance’s back. He piled on the blankets too, laying most of them over Lance’s half of the bed. 

By the time he was done, Lance’s shivers had slowly started to subside. When Keith was done brushing his teeth and climbing into bed himself, the shivers had stopped completely. Lance looked as he always did while asleep – a little goofy, but sweetly content. He waited a minute until he was warm too and then inched over, tucking Lance against him. 

He figured every last bit of warmth would count, even his own.


	63. Keith/Lance - Habit

Keith liked seeing Lance in his jacket.

That was something that had come about entirely by accident. As much as Lance cared for his clothes and his appearance, he had a habit of tossing his jackets down wherever he took them off, which led to a lot of confusion and complaining when they had been unwittingly rounded up for a load of washing or put away before he was done wearing them.

At times, it was just easier for Lance to grab whatever jacket was close, especially if he was in a rush, or if he wasn’t really going anywhere that demanded he look his best. That meant he grabbed whatever was nearest when he was in a rush to go – like if he needed a jacket to go out and grab the mail, or if he was going out to walk their dog.

Wearing nicer jackets was a little less common, but still something that happened. Keith had left his jacket hanging on the hooks by the front door, and Lance – like usual – had left his elsewhere, resulting in him being unable to find it. “I’m just going to borrow yours babe, yeah?” he’d called down the corridor when a few minutes of searching proved futile.

“Alright,” Keith had said, without really thinking. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading, some work spread out before him. 

There was a shuffling noise, and then the sound of Lance padding back down the hallway towards him. He stood in the kitchen doorway, arms spread, and asked, “How do I look?”

Keith had snapped to attention the moment he’d laid his eyes on Lance. He always thought Lance was beautiful; didn’t matter if he was drooling into his pillow, or if he’d spent two hours dressing up, there was no denying his natural appeal. Long legs, smooth, dark skin, captivating blue eyes – he knew exactly what his best angles were and exactly how to use them. He had an eye for fashion, so to see him wearing Keith’s jacket–

Well, it rendered Keith speechless. “You look good,” he managed to force out, eyes blinking rapidly. The sight of _his_ boyfriend in _his_ jacket sparked a tirade of _mine_ in his head. Keith wasn’t usually so possessive of Lance, but those feelings reared up, completely satisfied by the way Lance looked in his clothes.

And he looked good, of course. Lance could pull off anything. He was going out with Pidge and Hunk tonight, and had pulled on tight jeans, a stylish turtleneck, and now Keith’s red jacket. It was strange to see Lance wearing red, but a good strange. A very good strange.

Lance grinned at him, and hopped over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. Don’t wait up, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll be home.”

“Alright.” Keith squeezed Lance’s waist before he could dart away. “Have fun.”

“I will!”

It took Keith several moments to collect himself. Lance really did look good in his jacket.


	64. Lance/Shiro - Kitten

One perk of dating a cat shifter: they were always warm. 

Shiro thought this was especially true of Lance, his lover. He was probably biased, but he thought Lance was perfect. There wasn’t much he could do wrong, even if he was flirty and sometimes a little embarrassing and a bit too talkative. But there were more good qualities than bad, like Lance’s selflessness, and his unwavering support, and his courage.

And Shiro got to see those qualities in Lance more than most.

The one thing, however, that he always got to see was Lance’s warmth. That evening, it was in the literal sense. 

Lance was a very naturally cuddly person. He loved giving physical affection almost as much as he loved getting it, and it didn’t matter which form he was in. His shifted form was just as sweet as his human one – a little brown cat with a docked tail and his beautiful blue eyes. Lance’s signature cheekiness carried over in both forms, and Shiro was undeniably infatuated with him.

After a long day of working at their respective jobs, they’d both come home with the expectation of having a relaxing evening. Lance had cooked dinner, Shiro had cleaned up afterwards, and then they’d settled on the couch together. Shiro was bigger than Lance, and broader too, which meant he was the perfect place for Lance to lay down on. 

Which he was more than happy about, by the way.

Currently, Shiro had his lover right where he wanted him – in his arms. Lance was purring, his triangular cat ears flopped forwards. Every now and then his ears would suddenly perk up, swivelling towards some sound only he could hear, before he’d go all boneless again and nuzzle under Shiro’s chin. Shiro was happy to pat his back, tracing long lines down his spine, just so he could hear Lance’s sweet purring.

This was one of many things Shiro loved about Lance – his clinginess. A lot of the time, shifters could embody instincts from the animal they shared a form with. Cat shifters were known for being very selective about their friends, so gaining their favour was an admirable thing. Lance was a little friendlier than most, but Shiro still felt rather satisfied to know that Lance loved him.

Who wouldn’t have wanted Lance like that? He was pretty much perfect in every possible way. Kind hearted, gorgeous, affectionate… Shiro felt incredibly lucky to have Lance all to himself. Sometimes he looked at Lance and wondered what he saw in Shiro. Other times he looked at Lance and desperately wished that Lance would only look at him.

Most of the time, Lance was eager to fulfil that wish. For some reason, Lance was just as in love with Shiro as Shiro was with him. He had this way of knowing about Shiro’s insecurities without Shiro having to say them out loud, and was very capable of soothing them. He never missed an opportunity to tell Shiro just how much he loved him, or to make him feel good about himself. Lance gave compliments easier than he breathed oxygen.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance suddenly asked, ears pricked up curiously as he pressed a fingertip between Shiro’s brows. “You have your thinking face on.”

“Just about how much I love you,” Shiro answered, “and how much you love me.”

Lance grinned at him. “Aw, you big softie. I do love you.”

Shiro matched his smile, and rubbed behind one of Lance’s ears, delighted by the way Lance let out a happy chirrup. “That’s my kitten,” he said fondly.


	65. Adam/Lance/Shiro - Frappe

It was amazing how captivating a happy omega’s scent could be. On any given occasion, omegas generally smelt quite pleasant – their pheromones were appealing to most alphas, betas, and even other omegas on some level, even if it wasn’t for a romantic or sexual purpose. 

Though nothing was more tempting than one’s own omega being happy, Shiro thought. He could pick up Lance’s scent from ages away, even if Lance wasn’t in his sight. After Lance had agreed to court him, it was like Shiro became even more in-tune with his scent. He thought maybe his infatuation with the omega was to blame, but it was the same for Adam, too.

Adam was very vocal about the things he liked. He’d always been that way – unabashed, very rarely shy, confident in his opinions. They were qualities that had drawn Shiro to the beta all those years ago when they’d first met. Now they were a happily mated pair, courting an omega together. They both agreed that Lance was perfect for them.

Ever since they’d asked him for permission to court him, Lance’s scent had been constantly delightful. He didn’t seem to know it himself, but his pheromones were saying all the things that he was hiding behind bashful smiles and teasing grins. It was addicting. Even a single hint of his scent was enough to make Shiro do a sudden double-take. The amount of times he’d seen Adam whip around for the exact same reason was ridiculous.

“How can he be so cute?” Adam complained, as he absentmindedly stirred his frappe. They were sitting at a café, a table away from Lance and a few of their friends. It was a bit of a coincidence that they’d met up with Hunk and Pidge, since it wasn’t planned, but Lance had gone to sit at their table for a while at Shiro and Adam’s insistence. 

“I still haven’t figured that out yet,” Shiro replied. He took a bite of the cake he was sharing with Adam, keeping his eyes on his omega. Lance had been friends with Hunk and Pidge for a long time, and the three of them were very close. Getting to watch him relax and be himself so freely with his friends was something that filled Shiro with a lot of joy.

“God, I can smell him from here,” Adam continued, stirring his drink with more vigour. “He smells so good, Takashi. Like sunshine and fairy floss and, and – I don’t even know. The ocean? Probably. Pure perfection, I swear.”

“Agreed.” 

“Just look at him! I think I’m getting drunk off his scent, Shiro. Pinch me.”

“Not gonna do that, babe,” Shiro snorted. “You’re definitely awake, don’t worry. We can’t be having the same dream.”

Adam just groaned, sliding further down into the booth. He had a lost, dreamy look on his face, his eyes all warm and gooey behind his glasses. “I just like him so much, you know? He’s so funny, and caring, and he has the best jokes.”

Shiro wouldn’t exactly say Lance’s jokes were the best – they were cheesy puns most of the time, but admittedly cute – but that type of humour was exactly to Adam’s tastes. But Adam’s clear devotion to Lance fulfilled some strange pack instinct in Shiro, and it made him rumble in agreement. He dipped his head to nuzzle Adam’s cheek, laughing when Adam lazily swatted him away.

“Silly alpha,” Adam mumbled, as he reached beneath the table to rest his hand on Shiro’s thigh. “Stop distracting me.”

Shiro laughed again, just quietly, and went back to eating his cake.


	66. Lance/Shiro - River

Lance ran his fingers down Milotic’s side, smiling at the happy coo it made. Milotic’s scales were as beautiful as ever, reflecting the sun like shards of polished glass. There was no doubt in his mind that Milotic was the most beautiful Pokémon in the world, but he’d thought the exact same thing when it was just a little Feebas, too.

“Feel good?” Lance asked, unable to muffle his laughter as Milotic let out another coo, louder than before. He lifted one hand to put his palm under Milotic’s chin, giving it something to nuzzle into. His Milotic had the sweetest personality. Despite retaining that regal, aloof air most Milotics had, it was still very affectionate, and very friendly. 

When he was finished cleaning Milotic’s scales, he stepped out of the pool, and watched it swim around. He had more Pokémon to attend to today, and couldn’t spend all his time pampering his own, no matter how much he wanted to.

The Restoration Centre where he worked was the perfect place for water Pokémon to heal and thrive. The centre was situated right by the sea, where a freshwater river flowed into saltwater, making it the perfect place for all kinds of water Pokémon. It was a building designed to house water Pokémon, with rooms for rehabilitation, medical treatment, exercise, and training. Lance had come to work at the centre because of his love and passion for water type Pokémon.

Although he was trained for every role at the centre, Lance liked the rehabilitation parts the best. He got to be in the water with the Pokémon directly, got to help them learn to swim again, to build up muscle and strength. Not to mention a lot of Pokémon had fun when they were swimming, and that was the best part for him.

“Lance, have you seen to that Chinchou yet?” one of his co-workers called from the walkway above the pools.

“Not yet,” he grinned, sheepish. “Getting to it now!”

There was no time to dawdle when he had Pokémon waiting for him. 

Lance was passing by the front entrance on his way to the rehabilitation pools when something caught his attention. A man burst in through the front doors, making him yelp with surprise, as did the receptionist. 

The man’s eyes zeroed in on Lance, taking in his swimming uniform and his employee badge. “Can you help me?” he pleaded, breathless, face twisted with panic. “There’s a hurt Buizel in the river and I can’t get it free!”

“I’ll come right away,” Lance said without hesitation. He knew exactly where a Buizel might get caught in the river – there was a section of rapids with sharp turns and jagged rocks up towards the mountain. It was the last rough section before the river evened out, eventually leading into the ocean at the shoreline.

Quickly, Lance ducked into the corridor that lead to the recreation and relaxation rooms. He shouted out a quick, “Blue!” and heard a returning cry, one that was quickly followed by his Vaporeon dashing down the hallway, leaving wet paw prints behind.

“Lead the way,” he told the man.

The man did. He was a fast runner, and Lance struggled to keep up, but his thoughts were entirely on the hurt Buizel. 

Like he’d thought, the Buizel was caught in the jagged rocks at the river. When the trees parted to reveal the water, Lance caught sight of it weakly holding onto a rock in the centre of the river, where the current flowed the fastest. There was a tall Absol perched on the rock, pinning down the Buizel’s paws, trying to keep it afloat. 

It was clear neither one would be able to stay that way for much longer.

“Blue, in the water!” Lance shouted. 

“Is it going to be okay in there?” the man asked, shocked, as Blue dove into the rushing river.

Lance was confident. “Don’t worry, she’s strong.”

And Blue was. He’d had her since she was a little Eevee – had been given her egg as a present from his family when he was old enough to start training Pokémon himself. It had just been luck that she’d wanted to evolve into a Vaporeon, his favourite evolution; he’d left the choice up to her, considering Eevees could evolve into so many different forms. 

Blue powered through the rushing water with ease. She’d trained here after evolving, and was a powerhouse in the water. There was no one that could match her strength or speed.

Like he expected, she made it to the rock in no time. Her head and tail appeared above the surface, fins flared to keep her steady as she settled the Buizel across her back. She let out a cry in his direction.

“Okay, tell your Absol to let go,” Lance said.

The man hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Lance met his eyes. “Trust me.”

“Alright. Absol!”

The Absol released the Buizel’s paws, leaping to safety on land where it hunched at the man’s feet, clearly exhausted. The Buizel cried out, but Blue could support its weight, even against the stream of the river. She turned and began paddling for the shore, slowly but surely.

Lance waded as deep into the water as he dared, holding out a hand for the Buizel. It looked at him, unsure, but most of the water Pokémon around here would recognise the uniform, and it didn’t protest as he helped heave it to shore. Up close, he could see it was badly injured, covered in scrapes and cuts. 

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know,” the man said, crouching to rest one hand on the Buizel’s shoulder. “I saw it struggling in the river, but I couldn’t get to it. I don’t have any water types…”

“Can you carry it back to the centre?” Lance asked. He was strong, but a Buizel like this could weigh thirty kilos, and that was too much for him to run with.

“Yeah.” The man returned his Absol to its Pokéball, and then gently lifted the Buizel into his arms. “Let’s go.”

 

The man – Shiro, he said – hovered as Lance worked on the Buizel. They weren’t a Pokémon centre, but their facility was specially equipped to heal water Pokémon. After working on the Buizel for over an hour, healing its scrapes and bandaging its wounds, he was sure it would be fine.

“It’ll really be okay?” Shiro asked. He still hadn’t lost the worried pinch in his brow.

“Should be fine, after it gets some rest,” Lance assured him. He slipped his arms under the slumbering Buizel and lifted it, settling it onto the padded gurney waiting beside the table. He patted the head of the Azumarill that helped out the medical staff and watched it roll out the Buizel towards the recovery rooms, where it would be able to rest in peace and quiet. “Can I take a look at your Absol too?”

“It’s not a water type,” Shiro said.

Lance laughed. “I know, but I still want to see it.” 

Shiro released it from its Pokéball. The Absol was quite large, and quite beautiful. Lance let it become comfortable with him before he checked its paws and its legs. It looked alright, so Lance offered it an Oran berry, before giving one to Blue, too.

“There, all better,” Lance said, smiling. “Huh, Blue?”

Blue let out a happy cry. 

“Thank you so much for helping me, I know you’re probably busy,” Shiro said.

“It’s alright. Not many people would go so far to help a Pokémon that wasn’t theirs, you know,” Lance told him. 

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck, flushing. “I just didn’t want it to get hurt.”

Lance felt warmer at that. He was a sucker for anyone who cared about Pokémon as much as he did, especially water Pokémon. Shiro’s uninhibited kindness was refreshing. “What brings you out this way, Shiro?”

“Oh, I was heading towards the gym in the next town over,” Shiro said.

“You’re challenging the League?”

“Hoping to, eventually.”

“How many badges have you got so far?”

“Six.”

“That’s impressive!”

Shiro flushed again, beaming. “Thanks.”

Something about seeing a man as tall and strong as Shiro get all blushy and flustered made Lance’s heart race. It probably had something to do with the fact that Shiro was incredibly handsome, and clearly the kind who treated his Pokémon well.

“Your Vaporeon is amazing, you know,” Shiro continued, glancing down at Blue. “I’ve never seen such a strong swimmer. Are all your Pokémon water types?”

“Yep!” His Milotic and Vaporeon were his prides and joys. “Hey, how about taking a tour of the facility? I can show you around if you want!”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Perfect.” Lance swept out his arm. “Let’s go, then! You can see my other Pokémon. Trust me, you will be astonished. There’s nothing better than a water Pokémon!”

“I’m partial to dark types, myself.”

“Oh? I’ll prove water is better!”

Shiro laughed.


	67. Keith/Lance - Line

Every time Lance thought he was sure the mountain couldn’t get any steeper, it liked to prove him wrong. He was panting as he took a small break, holding onto the wooden railing of the trail he’d been following. When he glanced up, he was horrified to find that he still couldn’t see the mountain peak. 

“Leave the shore to find your soulmate, they said,” he grumbled to himself, as he dragged his weary legs up another set of wooden stairs inserted into the ground. “It’ll be worthwhile, they said.”

Lies, all lies. He doubted anyone expected him to have to climb a mountain, otherwise they wouldn’t have suggested he leave at all. Better to let his soulmate come to him, right? After all, water spirits were weaker when they weren’t near the sea. There was an absent ache in his chest, an insistent pull trying to nudge him back towards the water, even this far away from it. The higher he climbed, the more difficult it became to ignore.

But the line on his wrist was quite insistent, too.

Every spirit was born with a line on their wrist, as if someone had taken ink and marked them. When it came time to seek out their soulmate, the line would tingle, becoming a persistent burn that would only become worse as time passed. It led a spirit in the right direction – the burn easing when they travelled towards their soulmate, burning when they were going astray. When he was close to his soulmate, the line would slowly shorten, before eventually transforming into a pairing mark when he met his mate.

The minute he’d started climbing the mountain, his mark had begun to shorten. It was about time, too. He’d had to travel away from his beloved ocean to find this place.

By the time he reached a relatively flat area, he was thoroughly exhausted. These hiking trails were strenuous even for other spirits, let alone a water one. Throw him in the ocean and he’d be able to outswim anyone, but hiking? Forget it.

Lance found a relatively soft patch of grass a little ways away from the marked trail and threw himself down, arms spread wide. His legs were aching, and he was sweaty all over. But at least the environment was nice, he supposed. From this high up he could see most of the valley, and even parts of the sea in the distance. And the breeze was nice. Fresh and cool, even if it lacked the salty tinge he was familiar with. If nothing else, at least the day was pleasant.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he was aware of, the mark on his wrist was burning. He woke with a small noise, one hand flying to his wrist – 

– only to find another hand already there.

“It’s burning, right?”

Lance jolted upright, his heart racing. There was a man sitting next to him, one with dark hair and indigo eyes. He smelt faintly like smoke, and had a light sprinkling of ash in his hair. A fire spirit, then. He had a gentle grip on Lance’s wrist, but not so gentle that Lance could pull away.

“Are you thirsty? Here.” He passed Lance a bottle of water, one that Lance eagerly drained.

“I can’t believe you made me hike all the way up here,” Lance said, around gasping mouthfuls of water. “Do you know how far away you live from the ocean? Too far, man.”

The fire spirit winced, glancing away. “I live at the top of the mountain, where the volcano is,” he said. That was typical of fire nymphs – always living where the temperature was the hottest. It wasn’t something that they had to do, not like water spirits and the sea, but it was more comfortable for them. It explained the ash, too.

Lance handed back the empty water bottle, and slumped against the grass. He twisted his wrist free, watching his disappearing line reform itself into something new, something only the two of them would have. A unique mark.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s Lance.” He glanced up, meeting the fire spirit’s eyes. “Yours?”

“Keith.”

“Keith,” Lance repeated, testing the word in his mouth. It tasted nice on his tongue. As strange as it was to think that that would be the name of the person he’d love most in life, it felt oddly… natural. Keith’s name fit in his mouth like he’d always been saying it.

“Want to continue up the mountain?” Keith offered. “There are hot springs up there. Might help you a bit.”

“Oh god, that sounds perfect.” Lance groaned as he heaved himself upright, his joints protesting. “I’ve never been this far from the sea. Hot springs sound great right about now.”

Keith made a small noise. He looped one of Lance’s arms around his shoulders, supporting the majority of Lance’s weight with a strength that was as surprising as it was arousing. Lance blinked as the ache in his legs receded a little. He could feel muscles under his arm, could sense the strength Keith carried in his shoulders. They had a small height difference – Lance was a few inches taller – but there was no doubt in his mind that Keith was far stronger than him.

He hadn’t imagined meeting his soulmate like this, but he was glad that they were finally together.


	68. Keith/Lance - Bane

Keith had a problem. It was a Lance-shaped problem, as they often were these days, and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten himself into this situation.

Lance was wearing a sweater.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. It was winter, so Lance often wore warm clothes, because he hated the cold – he liked summer much better. He had a taste for fashion, so he always looked good, no matter what he wore. Keith had seen him in nothing but a rumpled nightshirt and fuzzy lion slippers and still thought Lance was unfairly beautiful, so a sweater shouldn’t have been much of an issue.

But this sweater in particular… it had become the bane of his existence.

Keith had learned a lot about clothes since he’d gotten together with Lance, even if he didn’t care much about fashion. He knew that Lance preferred to wear colder colours, especially blue, which was his favourite. He had a wardrobe full of muted greens, whites, greys and blacks. Every colour suited him, Keith thought, but Lance liked those ones the best. Once, however, he’d worn Keith’s jacket because he’d forgotten his. Most of Keith’s clothes were black or deep red, but that jacket was brighter.

And, of course, Lance had looked fantastic in it. Better than Keith did.

It probably had something to do with seeing his boyfriend wearing his clothes, but Keith was completely infatuated. He’d never seen Lance in that colour before, but he’d immediately decided that he liked it.

Apparently, Lance had liked it too, because he’d bought himself a sweater in the exact same shade. It was a warm sweater, made from a really soft, fleecy material. The neckline sat snuggly against Lance’s collarbones, and the sleeves slipped over his knuckles, letting his fingers peek out at the end. Keith was almost infuriated by how good Lance looked in it. Some part of him was deeply satisfied by the fact that Lance was wearing his colour – they were red and blue, the two of them. Their friends always teased them about that, but it was true.

In the end, though, he did get to stare at Lance all he wanted. Which was a lot, if he were being honest. Lance liked to wear the sweater around the house, padding from room to room in his fluffiest socks, lounging on the couch, humming to himself in the kitchen. Doing all the things he normally did, except in his red sweater, which made everything feel different.

He wasn’t sure if Lance knew about his fascination with the sweater. Lance was surprisingly perceptive about that kind of thing, so Keith thought he probably knew. That or he was completely oblivious to Keith’s intense staring. In any case, Keith wasn’t going to start complaining. Maybe he could convince Lance to buy more red coloured things… or convince him to wear Keith’s. That was an idea that had him perking up with interest.

Lance looked good in red and Keith wanted to see more.


	69. Keith/Lance - Shoal

Lance knew that mers his age were meant to live alone. Those of breeding age were never around pods or shoals, not until they had a mate and a brood of their own. It was to ensure that no fighting amongst breeding pairs happened, and that mers found mates outside of their birth-shoals to avoid accidental inbreeding. 

It made sense, and he knew that. He’d always known that one day he would be driven from his shoal when he was large enough and strong enough to survive on his own, but he was still terrified when it happened. Family meant everything to him, more than it did to the average mer, and he missed his siblings and his parents more than anything. His oldest brother had returned a few years ago with a new mate and a child on the way, and since then he’d had two little guppies, and they were the light of Lance’s life. He loved looking after the littlest members of his family.

Being away from them was its own form of torture.

He’d been away from his shoal for a few moon phases now. For a while he’d lingered around the edges of his shoal, even if it was dangerous, but eventually he’d had to leave. He knew he had to find a mate, but he was so lonely he couldn’t focus on that, even though he wanted one.

There had been several mers who’d approached him out in the ocean, but he’d rejected them all with hisses and swipes. None had impressed him, and he’d found none that he wanted to court. His loneliness was a big part of it, but his tastes were another thing stopping him from settling down. He had almost no preference when it came to looks or genders, but he wanted someone who wanted the same thing as him – a family. 

Most mers approached him promising pleasure and protection, and there was nothing wrong with that, but he wanted more.

 

It was mid-morning when another mer found Lance. He was swimming through a kelp garden looking for somewhere warm and sun-drenched to rest when he sensed the mer approaching.

Confrontations between mers were always tense situations. Were they friend, or foe? Willing to compromise, or the type to take what they wanted? Strong or weak? Lance could sense that he was perhaps the weaker one here, even if he didn’t like thinking that way – the mer was broader, his tail longer, his arms clearly muscled. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and when he came closer, Lance could see that his teeth were sharper than average, too. 

Lance thought he was handsome. Sort of rugged, and he could probably trim his hair a little, but his looks and his general disposition definitely seemed promising. He remained unresponsive as the mer drew closer, neither accepting nor rejecting, waiting to see what would happen. 

“Mate?” the mer questioned, eyes intently focused on Lance.

He let out a neutral noise, twisting around to circle the mer as he drew closer. Lance let his eyes roam over the mer, taking in the shape of his fins, the length of his tail. The mer looked strong, and Lance liked that. He felt something stir in his stomach, something that felt suspiciously like hope. He hadn’t like a mer from first impressions this much before.

Sensing Lance’s curiousity, the mer came closer, reaching out a hand for Lance’s hip. Lance felt the urge to curl up, recognising the action – it was the same thing all mers with dominant personalities did. Most of the time, when mers were looking for mates, they didn’t shy away like Lance did. Showing interest or curiosity was a signal that they were willing to mate.

But Lance didn’t want that, not yet. He hissed, flinching away, his teeth bared. Was this mer like the rest, then?

With a flick of his tail, Lance took off into the kelp, and tried to ignore the sting of disappointment in him. He doubted he’d see that mer again.

Which was why he was surprised to find that mer hovering over him several hours later.

He’d found his desired spot in the sun, and had curled up in a small patch of sand. He was surrounded by tall strands of kelp that kept him hidden from predators, and was letting the warmth of the water ease the tension in his shoulders. He missed his family more than ever.

When a shadow passed over him, he was instantly on alert, his teeth bared. Some mers would force a mate to accept them by any means and without a shoal to protect him, he had to take care of himself.

But it was the mer from before. He circled above Lance several times, before dipping down to rest something in the sand in front of him. Lance pushed himself upright, frowning, and glanced at what the mer had left him. 

It was a small handful of jewels. Lance’s eyes widened at the sight of them, his interest piquing. Sometimes mers would offer courting gifts just like this to gain the favour of a mer they liked, but it had never happened to Lance. He hadn’t expected the mer to continue pursuing him, not after he’d reacted so badly. And to offer him such pretty gifts…

But Lance’s longing for his family made his heart ache. He let out a lonely trill, and turned his head away, resting his chin back down on his folded arms. Rejecting him twice would show the mer that Lance wasn’t a good pick of mate.

He was still disappointed when the mer swam away, though.

How was he meant to know when he’d found someone who wanted the same thing he did? Meetings out in the open ocean like this didn’t usually require conversation – body language was all mers needed to know. His mother always told him that the ability to recognise the perfect mate was built into their bones, and Lance wanted to believe her. The mer with the dark eyes who’d given him jewels – and left them, Lance noticed – seemed perfect. 

But Lance wasn’t meant to swim alone, and he was wallowing. 

The sun had passed its highest place above the surface when the mer showed up again. Lance was incredulous, his face betraying his shock as he watched the mer approach him from above the kelp once more. This time he was carrying freshly caught fish, which he put in front of Lance. 

“Hungry?”

Lance shook his head. He was hungry, but he had no motivation to eat. He was used to eating with his family, so to be all alone was a strange experience that he still hadn’t gotten used to. 

The mer frowned down at him, confused. He tried to meet Lance’s eyes, twisting this way and that, but Lance kept his eyes downcast. Letting out a rumble, the mer dropped down beside him, laying his tail close by Lance’s. “Eat,” he insisted.

Lance did look at him then. The mer’s eyes were as intense as before, and he felt compelled to comply, so he ate. He was watched by the mer the entire time, but it didn’t bother him like he thought it might. Instead, the company was almost relaxing, and he ate more than he usually would have. 

“Your name?” the mer asked.

“Lance,” he said, when he’d consumed the fish and let the carcass drift off in the current.

“Keith,” the mer told him. He had a very forward way of speaking that Lance thought suited his face. “You do not like jewels?”

Lance’s eyes widened with guilt, and he looked away again. He couldn’t help but think the pretty blue jewel was like the colour of his mother’s eyes, and that the red jewel was the same colour as his nephew’s favourite coral piece. He loved them, and wanted to show them off to his family, but there was no way he could.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Keith backed off. He didn’t take the jewels with him when he left, and Lance was glad to have them to look at. He was surprised by how much he missed Keith when he was gone. Maybe he’d finally chased the mer off.

The sun was turning the surface orangey and warm when Keith returned once more. Lance watched Keith come closer, something clutched in his arms. When he came closer, Lance saw what it was – a blanket. The water didn’t often become cold enough for mers to need blankets, but winter could be harsh, and weaving fibres from sea grasses could produce the softest fabrics. 

“Yours,” Lance said, eyebrows raised. The blanket was like the ones given to guppies, one passed down through families. 

“Mine,” Keith agreed, “but for you.”

Lance gave him a worried look. That seemed like an even more precious gift than jewels.

“Mate,” Keith said, gesturing to Lance with his tail as he settled down closer to the sand. He held out the blanket. “Family. Not just pleasure. More.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “More,” he agreed quietly, reaching out a hand. 

Keith seemed shocked by this, his stoic expression shifting open in a way it hadn’t been before. He rushed forwards to let Lance inspect the blanket, but Lance pushed it aside to instead slide his fingers over Keith’s arm. Keith let out a pleased rumble, sinking closer to wrap himself around Lance like he couldn’t stop himself. 

“Family,” Lance said, as Keith nuzzled under his chin, his hair tickling Lance’s cheek. The slide of Keith’s tail against his own was nice. It had been so long since he’d touched another mer so affectionately… 

“Family,” Keith decided, tucking Lance closer. He watched with those intense eyes of his as Lance tugged the blanket into his arms, happily pressing his cheek against the smooth fabric. He didn’t complain as Keith’s hands ran down his sides, nor when Keith nuzzled his neck again, clearly staking his claim. 

He was more than happy to be claimed.

The feel of Keith’s smile against his neck was relieving. Lance tilted his head back against Keith’s shoulder and let himself enjoy the feel of his mate.


	70. Keith/Lance - Ice-Cream

Lance shifted around a little, trying to make himself comfortable without moving too much. He could feel the arm of the couch digging awkwardly into the back of his neck, and he was pretty sure one of the nicer couch pillows had ended up under his thighs, which was propping his legs up strangely. 

“Are they finally asleep?” Keith whispered, as he peered over the back of the couch.

“I think so,” Lance whispered in reply, as he put a gentle hand on the back of Nadia’s head, her hair soft and silky beneath his palm. His niece and nephew squirmed against him, digging themselves deeper into the couch – Sylvio tucked between Lance’s waist and the back of the couch, Nadia slumped across his chest, one of her legs dangling off the edge.

Getting them to sleep had been a nightmare. They’d been running around all afternoon, never showing any signs of slowing down. Both were very high-energy, and they loved visiting Lance and ‘Lance’s boyfriend’, as they said. He was sure they knew Keith’s name. Probably.

“Your brother texted you to say he’s on his way,” Keith said, showing Lance his own phone screen, since he had no hands free. “He also said he’s sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine,” Lance snorted, amused. His eldest brother had never been on time for anything. “I like having the kids here anyway, even if they are little gremlins when it comes to going to sleep.” He hadn’t been able to get Nadia or Sylvio to fall asleep in bed, not even when he read them story after story. Sometimes they didn’t mind sleeping at his house – he had a big bed, since he and Keith shared, and the kids were used to their single beds at home, so a queen sized one was fun for them – but tonight they hadn’t wanted to leave Lance alone.

“They’re cuter when they’re quiet,” Keith admitted teasingly. He rested his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his chin in his hand. “Though they did eat all of your ice cream.”

“All of it?”

“Yep.”

Lance gaped incredulously. “I left you alone with them for like… ten minutes. I just needed to shower.”

Keith flushed, a little embarrassed. “I wanted to get on their good side. Kids love ice cream, don’t they?”

Lance tried not to laugh. Keith had never been around kids before – he hadn’t even ever held a baby until Lance introduced him to his extended family. Sometimes he still got a little uncomfortable around young children because he never knew what to do with himself, but Nadia and Sylvio made him comfortable. He was always trying to impress them in his own little ways. Lance couldn’t complain too much about his missing ice cream if it made Keith feel like he’d pleased the kids.

“No wonder they wouldn’t sleep, they ate so much sugar,” Lance said, amused. 

Keith just grinned, a small little uptick of the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t overly expressive, but those little gestures really showed how he was feeling, and Lance loved them. It was nice to see Keith interacting with his family. He had a lot of siblings and a lot of cousins, and his family meant a lot to him. Keith had been nervous about meeting them, but he fit in easily, and all of Lance’s family loved him.

“I’ll let you guys relax, then,” Keith said. He bent over the back of the couch to softly kiss Lance’s forehead, and then wandered off. 

Lance sighed, and went back to trying to get comfortable.


	71. Lance/Shiro - Dripping

Shiro sighed as he finished wiping down the last table on the café floor. Midday had come and gone but there hadn’t been any customers. Shiro could hardly blame them though, not when the weather was so bad. It had been raining on and off all morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, the sky had turned so dark Shiro almost thought it was late evening.

He was considering closing up early when someone suddenly burst in, bringing with them a chilly blast of air. 

“You’re soaking wet,” Shiro exclaimed, surprised. The man was drenched from head to toe, an upturned umbrella trailing behind him as he shuffled into the café. He was wearing dark pants and a white shirt, and it was sticking to every inch of his chest and waist. Shiro felt flushed just looking at him, though he was currently more concerned about the man’s wellbeing.

“Sorry,” the man said, sounding as miserable as he looked as he let the door swing shut behind him. The bell chimed, and for a moment, it was the only thing Shiro could hear aside from the rain outside and the drips of water dropping off the man’s wet clothes. “Are… are you closed?”

“No, no, come in,” Shiro said. He tucked his cleaning rag into the pocket of his apron and moved to take the man’s umbrella, turning it the right way around for him. “Did the storm pick up?”

“Yep.” The man winced as water flicked off his umbrella as Shiro folded it shut. “I’m dripping all over your floor.”

“Don’t worry about it. Try to wring out your shirt before you freeze to death.” He could already see that the man was shivering, and his dark skin was looking pallid. “Do you want something warm to drink? On the house.”

“Oh, I can pay,” the man said, his brow furrowing with worry. 

“It’s fine,” Shiro told him, offering him a small smile. “You seem like you’re having a terrible day. Just sit down, alright?”

The man matched his small smile, and slid into the closest seat. Shiro headed behind the counter to make him a drink, and watched out of the corner of his eye as the man took fistfuls of his shirt, squeezing the water free. Every time he peeled his shirt off his skin Shiro felt his face go a little redder. He had to remind himself several times to focus on the hot drink he was making.

“Hot chocolate okay?” he asked.

“Perfect,” the man said. “I’m Lance, by the way.”

“Shiro.”

Soon, the smell of sweet chocolate began to fill his café. He ducked into the back to get a spare cloth, turning up the heat a little while he was there, and then took the cloth and the hot chocolate to Lance’s table. 

“Here, dry your hair with this,” he said, offering the little towel. “Sorry, I don’t have anything larger.”

“This is perfect, really,” Lance insisted. He rubbed the towel through his wet hair, mussing up the strands. When he was done, they were sticking up in every direction possible, and curling just a little. It was the cutest thing Shiro had ever seen. “Honestly, this almost makes it worth getting caught out in the rain,” he said, as he took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Thank you so much, Shiro.”

“You’re welcome.” Shiro slid into the seat across from Lance, feeling curious. “Why were you out there, anyway?”

“You would not believe the day I’ve had!” Lance groaned, slouching. “My car wouldn’t start when I was trying to leave work – half a shift early, too! The storm means there’s no customers, you know? So my boss sent half the staff home.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Shiro gestured around his empty café. “You work near here?”

“The bridal boutique, just down the road,” Lance said. “You know it?”

“I’ve walked past it, yeah.” This area was quite affluent, and very modern. The streets were lined with quaint cafés like Shiro’s, and fashionable clothing stores, and little hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and trendy bookshops. It was a nice, quiet area that was usually full of people wandering around the streets.

“Well, my car wouldn’t start, so it’s still stuck in the staff parking lot,” Lance continued. There was a pout creeping into the corners of his mouth and Shiro was fascinated. “It’s going to cost me heaps in parking when my staff pass times out. I was planning on walking to the train station near here, but well…” He gestured over his shoulder, where rain was battering the front windows of the café. 

“That sounds terrible,” Shiro said. “The weather has ruined your day, huh?”

“Totally! These storms are ridiculous,” he huffed. “Everything is cold and wet – summer storms are so much better, you know? I hate winter.”

Shiro laughed quietly. He didn’t mind winter, even if the cold bothered his shoulder a bit. “Well, I hope you’re feeling a bit better now, anyway. Do you want something to eat?”

“I really couldn’t,” Lance said, hesitant. “You’ve already been way too nice to me.”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favour. I doubt anyone else is going to come by, and I still have some cakes left in the display. Everything is freshly made daily, you know. I’d have to take it home and try and pass it off to my neighbours if no one else eats it. And trust me, even if she takes it, she will complain about it forever. Do you know how much cake I’ve fed that woman?”

“A lot?”

“Too much, she says,” Shiro said, amused. “And yet she always looks so disappointed when I have no leftovers.”

Lance laughed. “That reminds me of my sister.”

“So, want something to eat?”

“Oh, if it’ll save you from your neighbour’s wrath…”

“It definitely will.”

Luckily for Shiro, there was a perfect slice of chocolate cake left – two, actually. He was telling the truth about knowing no one else would drop by today; the weather was just too much. So he plated the cakes and took them to the table, delighting in the way Lance’s eyes lit up. 

“I’m so going to stop by here more often,” he said, moaning, as he ate a mouthful of cake. “This is so nice!”

“I’ll be sure to give the baker your compliments.”

Lance grinned. 

Shiro did, too. It’d been a while since he’d felt so besotted by someone, but Lance’s energy – and his pretty face – were captivating. “Feel free to come by,” Shiro said.

Lance’s grin brightened.

Shiro felt flushed all over.


	72. Keith/Lance - Airport

Lance covered his mouth with a yawn as he settled into one of the stiff chairs at the airport cafeteria. It was three in the morning, and yet somehow it felt like it was midday, even though Lance knew it definitely wasn’t. There were people moving about everywhere, some looking as fresh and rosy as a sunrise, others looking like they’d been dragged forcefully out of bed and thrown through a car wash without a car. Lance thought he fit somewhere in between.

Checking his phone, he impatiently waited for Keith to message him. His boyfriend had called when his plane had landed to let Lance know he was back, and now he was waiting for Keith to go through customs and get his luggage. Keith had probably picked the worst flight back possible – who wanted to come home at three in the morning? He was going to be so jetlagged tomorrow. Or today. 

Keith had gone to Korea to visit his grandparents for a little while. They didn’t quite understand the whole gay thing – they still thought he and Keith were “good friends”, and even though they were never rude about it, it was still strange trying to explain why they were holding hands or why they wanted to share a bed. It was sometimes easier for Keith to go on his own, and it was cheaper, too. Keith could stay with his family instead of having to pay for a hotel.

But he was back now, and Lance was waiting to drive them home. He’d probably make Keith drive, actually, since the time zone difference meant that Keith wouldn’t be as tired as Lance was. 

By the time Keith messaged him, Lance was on the verge of falling asleep in the cafeteria. The feeling of his phone vibrating made him jerk upright. It probably took about ten minutes of aimlessly wandering around before he saw Keith’s mess of black hair over the heads of the crowd. As tired as he was, he was still instantly delighted to see his boyfriend. 

He’d missed Keith a lot while he’d been gone.

“Keith!”

“Lance.” Keith set his suitcase down to fold Lance into his arms, smiling. He had that strange, freshly travelled scent on him, a mix of airplane air and the smell of incense from his grandparents’ home. Lance could smell it on him when he buried his face into Keith’s jacket, hiding a smile.

“I missed you,” he mumbled.

“I missed you too.” Keith groaned a little as Lance sagged against him, sounding amused. “Tired?”

“I could definitely fall asleep here,” Lance said, his eyes fluttering shut. The warmth of Keith’s body immediately spread through him. “You are so lucky I’m such a great boyfriend. Do you know how early it is?”

Keith laughed a little, and pressed his nose into Lance’s hair, holding him close for a quiet moment. “You’re the best boyfriend,” he said. “I missed you.”

Lance smiled, and patted Keith’s back gently. “Let’s go home.”


	73. Keith/Lance - Distracting

Keith was trying to look like he was interested in his phone, but his mind was anywhere but on the screen. All he could smell was Lance’s addicting omega scent and it was infuriatingly distracting. Lance didn’t even notice that his scent was so thick – he never did. 

But Keith always noticed, and lately, he’d grown much more attracted to it. 

Beside him, Lance let out a little yawn, nestling closer against Keith’s shoulder in a rather friendly way. He had no problem concentrating on his phone, his eyes glued to whatever he was currently reading. Every now and then Keith would glance at him out of the corner of his eye and try not to let himself puff up with typical alpha pride at having the attention of a pretty omega. After all, Lance was only leaning against him in a friendly manner. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d become so infatuated with Lance. The omega had always been affectionate, and was very willing to throw an arm around his friend, or link elbows. Keith found it difficult to keep his reactions under control when Lance did that to him. At times he wondered if Lance knew about Keith’s feelings for him, or if he was trying to figure out if Keith had any in the first place. Lance could be sneaky and devious like that, but Keith also might be paranoid. 

When it came down to it, he wasn’t sure if Lance would be interested in him like that. They’d spent a long time not liking one another, but they’d been friends for ages now. Sometimes they hung out together, just the two of them, or they went out to get food. Normal, social things. 

Keith resisted the urge to sigh as he forced himself to look at his phone, keeping his shoulders loose and relaxed as Lance leaned into him. Lance didn’t seem to notice when Keith’s scent started to thicken, and Keith was quick to keep it under control. 

As much as he liked Lance, he didn’t want to control him in any sort of way. A lot of pigheaded alphas thought they owned omegas, and that simply wasn’t the case. Lance deserved to be respected and Keith sometimes thought he might step over that line with the way he felt so protective of Lance.

At times, his instincts did get the better of him. He wasn’t used to controlling them in this way – he hadn’t really liked anyone like this before. When an alpha looked at Lance for a little too long, or even made to come in his direction, Keith would find himself glaring, on the verge of baring his teeth. He was doing it right then, feeling the stare of an alpha sitting across the park from them watching. His glaring chased the alpha off, and he had to tamp down the urge to preen. 

As Lance rested his head on Keith’s shoulder, letting out a quiet, pleased hum, Keith went back to struggling.


	74. Keith/Lance - Frisbee

Lance enjoyed telling people about the way he and Keith first met. It wasn’t particularly romantic – actually, it wasn’t romantic at all – but it was funny. Keith himself didn’t like hearing about it, and would always hide his face whenever they were asked how they started dating, because Lance really liked making it into a fun story and Keith did not.

“Oh, he hit me in the back of the head with a Frisbee,” Lance would say cheerfully, wrapping an arm around Keith’s neck to drag him closer, despite his embarrassed flustering. “Was a good shot, too. And then his dog pushed me off of a cliff.”

“It was a small cliff!” Keith would protest, indignant and red-cheeked.

“I ended up _very_ concussed.”

The most common response he got to that story was generally to ask what about their meeting had made Lance want to date Keith. Most people found it incredulous that such a meeting could produce a relationship – it wasn’t exactly the type of meet-cute relationship most people hoped for these days. Who would fall for the person that hit them in the back of the head with a Frisbee? But Lance probably wouldn’t have changed anything about the way they first met. Probably. Well, maybe the concussion part.

He’d been at the beach when the Frisbee incident happened. It was one of Lance’s favourite places to be, and always had been, ever since he was little. There was something about the ocean – the glistening sight of the water, the familiar smell of salt on the wind, the sound of waves gently meeting the shore over and over – was deeply soothing to him. He liked spending time on the hilly sand dunes when he wasn’t there to swim, and that’s what he’d been doing that afternoon. 

Truth be told, the dune wasn’t very tall. Two metres at the most. It was towards the vegetated area of the beach, so the sand was hard enough to form little cliffs covered in dry shrubbery. The dunes would crumble under too much pressure, but if Lance was careful enough, he could sit on the edge of one with his legs hanging over the sloped edge. 

It had been a relatively quiet day on the beach. Kind of cold, with a slight chill to the wind, which meant that parents and children hadn’t come down to the water. Every now and then people would leisurely walk past with their feet in the water, some with dogs, others taking pictures of the waves. A group of surfers were further down the shore tackling the harsher currents, bobbing on the surface of the ocean like buoys. 

He really hadn’t expected the Frisbee to hit the back of his head. There had been no shout of warning, no call to duck. Instead, his peaceful ocean watching afternoon had been interrupted by his own pained yelp as the flying disc smacked right into the back of his head.

“What the…?” he’d winced, a hand pressed to his hair as he regarded the bright red Frisbee. He hadn’t even had the chance to look for where it’d come from before the dog was on him.

Cosmo was huge, even for a large-sized dog. His concentration levels were through the roof when it came to chasing things, and at that time, Lance had exactly what he was hunting – the Frisbee. Cosmo hadn’t even seemed to notice that someone was holding his toy as he threw all of his weight at Lance. They’d immediately toppled over the edge of the fragile sand dune.

Lance had found out very quickly that dogs the size of Cosmo weighed more than they looked.

“Are you okay?” Keith had stood at the top of the cliff and stared down at Lance, looking faintly horrified. 

Lance had made a sound that wasn’t really a word and more of a pained gurgle. He’d had a concussion, after all. Keith had half dragged, half carried him to the life guard’s tower for first aid and that was that. 

“It really was a small cliff,” Keith muttered casting Lance a miserable look. “More of a ledge.”

Lance laughed and cuddled Keith closer, pressing their cheeks together. As painful as being hit in the head by the Frisbee had been, he looked back on their first meeting fondly. If it had never happened, then he and Keith wouldn’t have ever gotten together. 

“I’m never going to let you live it down,” Lance teased, after he finished telling the story to his curious cousins, who found it as endearingly amusing as he did. They were at a get together with a lot of Lance’s family, and some of them were meeting Keith for the first time. Keith had become a lot more comfortable around the multitude of Lance’s family members he was always meeting, so Lance felt comfortable teasing him a little. 

Keith sighed, and leaned into Lance’s embrace. “I know. I swear Cosmo still looks ashamed whenever it’s brought up.”

Lance thought that Cosmo was one of the least expressive dogs he’d ever met, but Keith could read him like he was an open book. “He’s heavier than he looks, you know.”

Keith snorted.

“And he gets so intense about Frisbees!” Lance knew this firsthand now. Since he and Keith had started dating and were now living together, he’d had lots of chances to play with Cosmo. The moment the dog heard the sound of the Frisbee being picked up, his concentration levels went from zero to one hundred. Lance had never seen a dog so focused on anything before. Cosmo was more interested in Frisbee chasing than he was in food, and that was saying something. 

“He does love chasing things,” Keith admitted, smiling to himself. 

Lance smiled too. “He’s cute when he gets all focused like that,” he said. “Like owner like dog.”

“Hey,” Keith huffed.

Laughing, Lance hugged Keith closer again, glad that they could enjoy little moments like this. “The concussion was totally worth it,” he said. 

“Was it now?”

“Definitely.” He pressed his lips to Keith’s cheek. “Got a handsome boyfriend out of it, didn’t I?”

“Handsome?” Keith’s cheeks reddened.

Lance rolled his eyes. His poor fool of a boyfriend really didn’t understand anything, did he? But Lance loved him, obliviousness and all. Keith’s competitiveness and his aloof personality matched with Lance perfectly, and even if they bickered, they never stayed angry at one another for long. Lance had never met anyone like Keith, never met anyone he’d felt so much for.

Even with their awful first meeting, he wouldn’t have changed anything.


	75. Keith/Lance - Guppy

Lance shifted around uncomfortably, feeling the water turn cold beside him as his mate swam away. He watched the flash of Keith’s red scales disappear out of the entrance to their home, pushing the curtains of flowering grass aside. If he listened carefully, he could hear the sounds of their shoal awakening, could hear the hunters gathering for the day’s trip, and the carers herding the young, rambunctious guppies from each doorway down to the grass and coral clumps at the centre of the shoal’s community.

Usually, Lance would be out and about doing his part. When he was needed, he joined the hunting parties, going out to catch fish and crabs with rock-tipped spears and woven nets. Other days he would help in the nursery, where expecting carriers could take their eggs or newborn guppies for extra care and comfort. He loved seeing the little guppies, and was more than willing to help care for them in their earliest stages, when they needed the most help.

But lately, he hadn’t left his home. He had his own precious egg to care for.

The carrier partner in merfolk pairings was the one who cared for the egg. It spent six moon phases growing inside the carrier, and then three outside, as the shell would toughen to further protect the fragile guppy when the carrier’s body could no longer afford to. After all, birthing a solid egg was impossible – the shell remained soft and malleable for the first six moon phases, allowing nutrients and proteins to pass through. When enough had been stored, the soft egg was birthed, and the shell hardened, protecting the guppy in its last stages of incubation. 

Lance’s egg was seven moon phases old now. The first moon phase outside of the carrier’s body was the most dangerous; it took time for the egg shell to harden, and any slight bump could cause irreversible damage to the guppy inside. Carriers like Lance spent the first moon phase almost completely still, the egg safely cradled in their arms. It was up to the mate to bring food and provide protection. 

His egg was harder now, though, so he was willing to let it go for a short while, but only into his mate’s arms. Sometimes Lance felt the urge to stretch his fins, so Keith would take over cradling the egg while Lance swam about for a few hours. Other times Keith simply wanted to fawn over their little guppy, and would take the egg so he could hold it close and coo at it. Keith’s affection for their guppy pleased Lance all the way down to his core.

A short time passed before Keith returned, carrying a basket of sea fruits and crab. “You’re awake,” he said, eyes glancing over Lance searchingly, lingering on their egg.

Lance hummed, his stomach rumbling. Keith swam down beside him, laying his tail out for Lance to rest against as he sat upright, their egg cradled against his chest. He’d wrapped it in a blanket woven from seagrass fibres the previous night, intent on keeping it warm and comfortable. 

“Eat,” Keith encouraged, holding the basket within Lance’s reach. 

Lance did. Keith knew his tastes perfectly, and had gathered foods that Lance liked the most. The fruits were sweet and chewy, and the crab tasted fresh. Growing their egg had taken a lot of energy from Lance, as it did for all carrier mers, and he was still recovering from that. Resting was currently his favourite pastime.

“Was the egg okay last night?” Keith asked, as he peeled back the blanket to peer at the egg, his eyes warm and protective at the same time. It was a commonly believed tale that the colour of the egg’s shell would indicate the colour of the guppy’s scales, and their egg was steadily turning a deep shape of red, one that caught the light like a sunset. Over the last week or so it had turned from the pale white it had been at birth to the red of Keith’s tail, and Lance knew that Keith was especially satisfied by that. Lance knew that Keith was just as excited for their guppy as he was, even if he showed his emotions less than Lance did.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Lance said, grinning, as he gently eased their egg into Keith’s arms. He could tell when Keith was aching to hold it – the first month when Lance wouldn’t even consider the thought of letting it go had made Keith anxious with eagerness, and he’d cried when Lance had first let him hold it. He’d never admit that out loud, but Lance had seen it happen, and had been just as emotional as his mate.

As Lance ate his way through all the food in the basket, he watched Keith carefully inspect their egg, treating it with the same private tenderness he treated Lance. He ran worshipful hands over its smooth edges, staring so intensely at it that it was like he was trying to see the shape of their guppy inside. 

“Not long now,” Keith murmured, as he tucked the egg back up in its blanket, holding it close to his chest to keep it warm. “Only two more moon phases.”

Lance nodded in agreement. They’d already prepared their home for the arrival of their guppy, having made its bed and stocked up on soft foods a guppy could eat. Soon Lance would begin venturing out of his home with his egg in tow, taking it down to the nursery to find himself a place to be cared for. The nursery waters were warm and sunny, and at the very heart of their shoal, completely protected from all angles. Carriers would each find a place to rest in the soft grass where the nursery workers could watch over them and their young.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Keith asked.

“Not yet.” He felt it was impossible to think of a name when he didn’t even know what his guppy would look like yet. He wanted it to have a name that meant something, but couldn’t pinpoint the perfect one yet. Perhaps he’d ask his friends for help – surely Allura would know of a meaningful name, since she was one of the most intelligent people he knew. Or Shiro, perhaps? He was close to Keith, and had two guppies of his own with his mate Adam, both of which had very sweet names. He might have some suggestions.

Soon the tense ache of having his arms free began to bother Lance, and he stopped eating. Keith had grown very attuned to Lance’s moods, and instantly noticed when his attention shifted. He passed the egg back over without fussing, and fixed the blankets when Lance had it comfortably settled in his arms once more.

It was strange to think that he’d missed the egg so much when he’d only let it go for long enough to eat. Lance cooed and trilled at it, bending to press his cheek against its curved side. The shell felt cosy, still soaked in warmth from Keith’s body. 

He was sure there was no better loved guppy in all the seas.


	76. Keith/Lance - Fevered

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Fine, Shiro,” Keith bit out, glancing at Shiro out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll be gone for a day, stop worrying.”

Shiro pressed his lips into a thin line, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Maybe Adam should stay with you after all…”

Keith scowled, barely holding back a scoff. He hadn’t seen Shiro without Adam by his side since they solidified their bond. Fey who shared a bond hardly ever parted, unless dire circumstances called for it. 

“You remember everything I said?” Adam asked, coming up behind Shiro to place a calming hand on his shoulder. “It’s important that you keep Lance’s fever down, Keith. His body can’t fight it off without outside help.”

“I know,” Keith said, calmer this time. He could never really bring himself to stay mad when Adam was looking at him like he was. He had a way of making Keith want to glance away from him, the argument physically diffusing with little more than a look. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Alright.” Adam looked from Keith to Shiro, and gave his taller mate a gentle smile. “Let’s get going, then. We should be as quick as possible if we want to get there before the pharmacy closes.”

“You’re right,” Shiro conceded. “Be careful, okay Keith? We won’t be gone long. Just a day.”

“I’ll be careful.”

With one last lingering look, Shiro and Adam turned away, and headed out of the cave they’d been resting in. It was a well-hidden spot, away from the trail. Away from any soldiers patrolling the area, too. Adam had used his earth magic to make it a little more comfortable, hollowing out a space in the wall protected from the draft. That was where Keith returned once he could no longer see Shiro or Adam. 

Lance was looking miserable. He was sprawled out on a bed made from leaves they’d gathered from the forest, using Keith’s bag as a pillow. Everyone had laid their blankets over him, but even with four layers of weight, Lance was still shivering. His face was splotchy and red, dark enough to see despite his brown skin, and he was covered in a layer of sticky sweat.

Keith felt something twist up inside of him just at the sight of Lance looking so pained.

“Still cold?” he asked quietly, as he crouched down beside the water fey. 

Lance cracked open his eyes, looking at Keith pitifully. 

Keith sighed, and held his hand out towards the pile of kindling Shiro had gathered earlier. A brief burst of flame lit them, spreading a billowing warmth through the cave. Lance groaned a little as he shifted towards the flame, turning his face to the side. 

“Here, drink.” Keith offered Lance the bottle of water from his backpack, making sure Lance drank several mouthfuls. He pressed his palm to Lance’s forehead, wincing at the heat he felt.

Guilt swelled in his stomach. Lance had been injured when they’d been caught by Galra soldiers the day before. If Keith had just moved quicker, then Lance would have never gotten hurt. His injury had left him weak and fevered, and without any medicine to heal him, he was only getting worse. Shiro and Adam had gone down to the base of the mountain where a small town had a pharmacy, but it was going to take them a day to get there and back.

“Keith,” Lance croaked.

“I’m here,” Keith murmured. He encouraged Lance to drink another mouthful and then set aside the water. “Rest.”

Lance whined, his eyes fluttering as pain creased his forehead. “It hurts.”

“I know.” Keith reached a tentative hand towards Lance’s, curling Lance’s limp fingers inside his own. 

They had a bit of a rocky past. Their personalities clashed, mixing about as well as fire and water did. Keith had never wanted a bond mate, and was confused by the things he felt for Lance. Their competitiveness led to a lot of misunderstandings and arguments, and considering they were still trying to get to know one another, it was difficult to sort out his feelings at the same time.

But the thought of losing Lance… Seeing him so injured, so weak… 

“Don’t go,” Lance whimpered.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He shuffled closer to Lance, and kept quiet as Lance shifted around again, lifting his head to rest it on Keith’s thighs. His breath was hot and damp, enough so that Keith could feel it even through the fabric of his pants. He smoothed his free hand over Lance’s forehead again, brushing strands of his hair to the side. “Rest,” he said again.

“Don’t want to.”

Keith held his tongue. He reached for the water and made Lance drink again, just as Adam had instructed him to. Keith’s knowledge about first aid was limited, even more so for fey other than fire ones, like himself. He didn’t know how to care for water fey, and his inadequacies were quickly becoming frustrating. How could he not know how to care for his bond mate? Never mind the fact that they weren’t actually bonded yet. He’d already decided he wasn’t letting Lance go, even without realising that he’d actually made that decision.

Lance’s blurry blue eyes watched him with a sort of frightened panic. His fingers weakly squeezed Keith’s, trying to keep him close, even though he wasn’t going anywhere. “Didn’t want you to get hurt,” he croaked. “Yesterday.”

Keith winced. He’d tried to convince himself that Lance hadn’t taken the hit for him, that instead Keith just hadn’t been fast enough to protect him. He didn’t want to think about how far Lance was willing to go to protect him, even when they weren’t bonded. Thinking about how much Lance felt for him – knowing that deep down, he felt just the same – was frightening.

But the thought of losing Lance was scarier.

Gently, he lifted Lance’s hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to his bruised knuckles. They made a horrible pair, the two of them. Always arguing. Fundamental opposites. But he wouldn’t have changed any of it, he realised. He needed someone who could keep up with him, who could give just as good as he got. Shiro always told him that fate never went wrong with these things but Keith had never believed him until then.

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith said. “But I appreciate it.”

Lance offered him a weak smile.

All was quiet for a while. Keith dampened a cloth and laid it over Lance’s forehead, hoping to bring his fever down a little. He made Lance drink all the water they had, then quickly ducked out to the stream nearby to refill all the containers they had, hoping he wouldn’t have to leave Lance’s side again.

As night began to fall, Keith ramped up the fire, and continued to give Lance water to drink. He was sure he wouldn’t get any sleep, but he wanted Lance to rest. 

“Lay with me,” Lance pleaded, weakly pawing at Keith’s hand. He’d refused to sleep all evening, becoming anxious and inconsolable every time Keith had to leave him to get water or more firewood. 

“Will you sleep if I do?” Keith asked. He wasn’t sure how lucid-Lance would react to all of this, and didn’t want to cross any boundaries before properly discussing them. Shiro was always telling him that he had to talk before he acted more.

“Yes,” Lance said, giving Keith his best pleading, watery expression.

Keith hesitated, before nodding. He made Lance drink once more, put the water close by, and then laid himself down behind Lance, so that Lance was in between him and the fire. He didn’t go beneath the blankets, instead tucking them tighter around Lance, putting his arm over Lance’s waist. Lance let out little noises as Keith made himself comfortable, curling up against Keith’s chest. He kept a tight hold on Keith’s hand.

“Sleep now,” Keith said.

“Okay,” Lance whispered. He closed his eyes, so Keith moved the damp cloth down over them, making sure Lance would sleep properly. 

When he was sure Lance was finally asleep, he carefully pressed his ear to Lance’s back, listening to his rattling breaths. By now, Shiro and Adam should have reached the base of the mountain. 

Soon they would be back, and his bond mate would be okay.


	77. Keith/Lance - Rainy

At any moment, Lance was more than willing to explain just how much he loved the rain. His mother always said he was a water baby, that he’d loved the water since he was old enough to be put in a pool, arm floaties and all. He loved the sea, loved rivers were people could swim and fish, loved walking by lakes and visiting duck ponds.

And normally, he loved the rain. It was one of the only things guaranteed to help him fall asleep without any hesitation. The sound of it steadily hitting the rooftop or pattering against his bedroom windows was hypnotic and familiar, and he loved the way it made the world feel muddled and secluded, like a blanket had been tossed over the sky. He loved the smell of the garden after it had rained, and how everything was clean and fresh.

But that evening, when the sky cracked open and the rain began to pour down, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

He had the entire house to himself, for once. All four of his siblings were busy, and his parents had gone out for the evening, and weren’t expected back until past dinner time. Lance was enjoying the quiet of the house, and the way he felt like he could do anything.

The rain was putting a halt on his plans, though. He stood by one of the windows in the front room and watched puddles form in his front garden. It didn’t look like the rain was going to stop anytime soon. 

There was no way Keith could ride his motorcycle in this weather.

A sigh escaped him. They’d planned to spend the evening together, safe in the privacy of Lance’s vacant home. No one knew they were dating, not even their close friends or their family. The only time they had to themselves was when they were alone in Keith’s bedroom, pretending to study. But even then Shiro and Adam – Keith’s guardians – were usually home, and the bedroom door was never locked out of respect for them. 

Riding in this rain was impossible, Lance knew that. He didn’t want Keith to be reckless just so they could have some alone time together, and knew that his boyfriend probably wouldn’t be able to make it over. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel disappointment rattle through him.

Sighing again, he drifted away from the window, and threw himself down on the couch. He fished his phone out of his pocket and was in the middle of writing Keith a text message full of pouting faces when he heard the distinct rumble of a motorcycle through the patter of rain. Glancing up, confused, he tried to see out of the window, but the angle wasn’t right. It couldn’t be Keith, could it?

A knock on the door a few minutes later made Lance’s heart race.

Keith was looking a little bedraggled when Lance tossed open the front door. He had his helmet tucked under one hand, and was shaking his leather jacket free of water with the other.

“Keith!” Lance exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Keith gave him an unimpressed look. “As if the rain would stop me,” he said.

Lance grinned, slow and excited.

Keith grinned at him too.

“Come in, then,” Lance urged, stepping aside. “I’ll get you something dry to wear.”

A pair of sweatpants and a soft hoodie later, and Keith was sitting on his couch, kissing the taste of rain into Lance’s mouth. 

Lance didn’t think there was a better way to spend a rainy day.


	78. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Growl

Shiro had a good grasp on his mates’ instincts. He was an alpha to two omegas whose cycles had yet to sync, despite the fact that they’d been together for a long time, and officially bonded for a year now. That probably had something to do with the fact that their cycles were polar opposites – Lance’s heats came more than average for omegas, and Keith’s less. It was rare for them to both be in heat at the same time, but the dates had been inching closer lately, with their last round of heats being only a week apart.

As their alpha, he thought it was his responsibility to keep track of what he could. Lance was usually on top of his cycle, and his heats came fairly regularly, four times a year. His pre-heat period was noticeable, and he was a furious nester, so it was easy to tell when he was going into heat. Keith’s heats were mostly unpredictable, sometimes only coming once a year. He didn’t nest like Lance did, and sometimes went straight into his heat, completely unexpected.

But Shiro had gotten used to looking for the small signs. Having two omegas as his bond mates meant that their instincts were constantly playing off of one another. If Lance subconsciously sensed that Keith was going into heat, he’d sometimes start making a nest for Keith. Other times, Keith would act almost like an alpha when Lance was in pre-heat, scenting him and prowling around the house like he expected someone to come and try to steal Lance from him.

That’s how Keith was acting now. Shiro had smelt the heat on Lance that morning, just faint threads of something overpoweringly sweet. Lance started nesting, stealing sheets from their bed and cushions from the couch to make a soft place for himself. He always became warm and loose-limbed when he was in pre-heat, sidling up for kisses and whining to be scented. Neither Shiro nor Keith could ever deny him.

Shiro liked it when Lance was like that. He always scheduled time off for heat cycles, so he’d spent the day preparing for Lance’s heat. He’d gone grocery shopping for omega-specific supplies, like protein bars and a type of detergent that would remove any slick stains from fabric, since there would be a lot of washing to do afterwards. 

When he got home, it was mid-afternoon. Usually Lance would have started dinner, but Shiro took over the cooking when either one of his omegas entered their heat cycles, so he wasn’t surprised to find them curled up on the couch together.

“Welcome home,” Lance said, voice dreamy and muffled around a yawn. He was tucked up against Keith’s chest, his face hidden under one of Keith’s arms so that only fluffy tufts of his hair could be seen. 

“I bought those little cake slices you wanted,” Shiro said, holding up the shopping bags. 

“The ones with the blueberry jam inside?” Lance’s head popped up, eyes interested.

“Yeah.”

“My hero,” Lance grinned.

Shiro gave him a smile in return. He ducked into the kitchen for a short moment, putting away the groceries that needed refrigerating. Knowing that Lance was going to snack on the little, pre-packaged cake slices whether they were put away or not, he left them on the kitchen bench.

He found his mates exactly where he’d left them when he returned to the lounge room. Keith’s eyes were looking quite dazed as he nuzzled Lance’s hair, breathing in his pre-heat scent. Shiro wondered if it would be enough to trigger a heat in Keith too – that sometimes happened with bonded omegas whose heat cycles hadn’t synced up. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked Lance, crouching in front of the couch. 

Lance’s head popped out of the cradle of Keith’s arms again, his eyes fuzzy and bright. “All good,” he said, resting his cheek against Keith’s arm. “Warm.”

Shiro reached out a hand, intending to touch Lance’s forehead, when Keith suddenly snapped at him. He let out a terrible growl, one that was all omega possessiveness, his teeth bared. Shiro was so surprised by it that he flinched back, eyes widening.

“Keith?” Lance had gone very still, a furrow in his brow.

Keith blinked several times, frowning. His scent was all tangled up, protective and confused.

Shiro frowned too. He reached forwards again, faster than Keith could catch, and wrapped his fingers around the back of Keith’s neck. He held on tightly when Keith snarled again, watching Keith’s arms go painfully tight around Lance. He let his scent spill into the room, domineering in the way alpha scents always were. “Keith,” he said, his voice full of warning.

It seemed to snap Keith out of his daze. He blinked several times again, his arms going slack when Lance squirmed. He suddenly looked very ashamed of himself, and confused, like he wasn’t sure what had happened. “I…”

“It’s okay,” Shiro soothed, letting his fingers go gentle on the back of Keith’s neck, carefully patting his pale skin. He shifted closer, sitting on the edge of the couch, and guided Keith’s head to the crook of his neck. “You alright now?”

Keith didn’t answer. He was trembling, just a little. When Shiro breathed in his scent, his nose pressed to Keith’s hair, he smelt just the faintest stirrings of heat. 

That explained his possessiveness. Keith was a little more dominant than most, and when he was in heat, he was very adamant about claiming Lance as his omega. Since his heats were still mostly random, he could sometimes be struck with instincts just like the ones he’d just had, ones that made him act different. Shiro didn’t think it was a bad thing, and only saw it as another facet of omega instincts, but he knew that Keith didn’t like feeling so out of control.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked, leaning closer to press the tip of his nose to Keith’s. He hadn’t lost that confused furrow in his brow, but his scent was soft and pleasing, aiming to calm his mates.

“Yeah,” Keith whispered, though it was clear he wasn’t. “I didn’t hurt you, did I…?”

“Not at all.” As if to prove his point, Lance pressed closer again, wiggling until Keith pinned him still with another hug. It made Lance sigh dreamily, his cheek against Keith’s chest, as if nothing had happened. 

Shiro pressed a reassuring kiss to Keith’s forehead, and then one to Lance’s cheek, the only place he could reach. “How about I get that cake, hmm?”

“Okay,” came the whispered agreements from his omegas. They were all cosied up again, letting the tenseness drain from their shoulders. The bond they shared as omegas was something Shiro would gladly admire for the rest of his days. It was something he couldn’t understand, not completely, and he was okay with that. 

From the kitchen doorway, he cast a glance at them, just to make sure his mates were really alright. Lance was nuzzling Keith’s cheek, calming him, and it eventually pulled a smile from the omega. 

Shiro sighed wistfully, feeling warm. He had promised his mates some cake, so the cake was where he went.


	79. Keith/Lance - Fluff

Lance snickered at his phone, watching a video Pidge had posted earlier that morning. She’d teased her dog Rover by hiding behind a blanket and then ducking aside, making it seem like she’d suddenly disappeared. Rover had seemed so confused, turning his big pleading eyes on Matt, who’d been cackling behind the camera. 

Glancing up, he levelled a considering look on Cosmo, who was lounging on the dog bed Lance had bought him when he’d moved in with Keith a year ago. Cosmo was Keith’s dog, a big thing with intelligent blue eyes and dark fur. He was a little quirky for a dog, and had this incredibly even expression to him, one that hardly ever seemed to shift with his emotions. 

A grin came to Lance’s face. 

He took the throw blanket off the back of the couch and stood in the doorway to the lounge room. “Cosmo,” he beckoned.

The dog lifted its head, giving him a curious stare – at least, Lance thought he looked kind of curious. It was hard to tell. Nevertheless, Cosmo stood, gave himself a shake, and then wandered over. Lance held up a hand to signal the dog to sit, Cosmo’s eyes still fixed on Lance as he did so.

“Now, watch me closely,” Lance instructed, stretching the blanket out in front of himself. He lifted it up, then lowered it a little, staring down at Cosmo. The dog tilted his head. Lance repeated the action, then peered down at Cosmo again, making sure the dog knew where he was. Then, in a flash, he lifted the blanket, stepped around the corner of the doorway, and dropped it.

He heard Cosmo’s claws scratch against the tiles as the dog startled. A laugh bubbled out of Lance’s chest, and he stepped around the corner. Cosmo was doing that thing dogs did when they were excited, his front paws splayed out, chest pressed low to the ground, tail perked. 

“Surprise,” Lance grinned. “I didn’t disappear! Were you surprised?”

Cosmo jerked, his tail giving a tentative wag as he pushed his front paws against the tiled floor. He let out a low woof, still looking stiff as a board.

“Cosmo?”

The dog let out a louder bark, and launched himself forwards. The full weight of him tackled Lance to the ground, tangling them up in the blanket, which Cosmo promptly growled at. Lance couldn’t help but burst out laughing as Cosmo sniffed all over him, his face full of intensity. He’d never seen the dog so riled up before, not even when Keith played fetch with him.

“Silly dog,” Lance teased, rubbing behind Cosmo’s ears. “I didn’t actually go anywhere, you know.”

Cosmo wasn’t convinced. When Lance tried to stand, he let out another growl, and kept Lance pinned to the ground. Lance had never seen a dog give the stink eye to a blanket before, but as he watched Cosmo do just that, he could feel laughter threatening to spill out of him again. 

It seemed like Cosmo wasn’t going to let Lance go anywhere anytime soon.

“Keith,” Lance called, flopping back onto the ground. The coolness of the tiles seeped in through his clothes, making him sigh. He waited until he could hear Keith’s padding footsteps before tilting his head back, eyeing his boyfriend upside-down.

“What are you doing now?” Keith asked, one eyebrow perked as he looked between Lance and the dog resting heavily on Lance’s chest, staring so intensely at Lance that his nose was almost touching Lance’s cheek.

“I think I broke your dog,” he said.

Keith’s eyebrow inched higher. “You did what?”

“I most definitely broke him,” Lance repeated. He put his hands on Cosmo’s cheeks, trying to nudge his face away, but he wouldn’t budge, not even a little. “I think he thinks I’m going to teleport away, or something.”

Keith crouched down beside Lance’s head, putting his chin in his hand. “And why would he think that?”

“Even heard of the ‘what the fluff’ challenge?”

Keith frowned. “Isn’t that the thing Pidge posted this morning? The video.”

“Yep.”

“Let me guess. You did it to Cosmo?”

“I thought it would be funny.” Lance paused, and then grinned. “It was totally hilarious.”

Keith sighed, though there was a small smile playing in the corner of his lips. He reached out a hand to ruffle the fur on Cosmo’s head, but not even that could deter the dog from his insistent staring. “I can’t believe you broke my dog.”

“Can you take a picture? I have to show Pidge how Cosmo reacted.”

Keith obliged him, taking a photo of Cosmo still pinning Lance down to the ground, the blanket bunched at their feet. “I hope you know he’s not going to leave you alone anymore. I recognise that look in his eyes. You’re like his new favourite toy.”

Lance snorted. It was true that the look in Cosmo’s eyes was like the one he got when Keith dug out his favourite Frisbee from his toy pile, he was pretty certain that Cosmo wasn’t thinking of him like a toy. “Nah, he just thinks I’m going to disappear.” Lance groaned as he struggled out from under the dog. “Help me up, babe?”

Rolling his eyes, Keith offered Lance a hand. The minute Lance was standing, Cosmo sat firmly on his feet, head tilted up to continue his staring. 

“I think I really did break him,” Lance laughed.

“He’ll be fine.” Keith waved a hand. “Either way, now that he’s stuck to you, at least I can get some work done without him trying to climb on my lap.”

Lance pouted, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting some love and affection from Cosmo… even if it was in the form of concentrated staring. When Keith left to go back to do what he was doing, Cosmo followed Lance, never taking his eyes off of him. Lance could only grin, and patted Cosmo’s head, soft and reassuring.

“Silly dog,” he said.


	80. Keith/Lance - Pin

Keith knew he shouldn’t be feeling the things he was feeling. Those little warm sensations lingering just under his skin, those strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach – they’d made their home inside his chest and could not be convinced to leave, no matter how much he tried to reason with himself. 

A Blade of Marmora member didn’t have time for a relationship, he told himself.

A Galra wouldn’t choose an Altean over their duty, their people, he told himself. 

A soldier couldn’t fall in love with a prince, he told himself. 

And yet, as he stood patiently in the grand hall of Altea’s royal castle, he couldn’t help but feel all those things tangle up inside him. He didn’t care about what he could or would or should do, only that he was willing to do it. One look at the Prince and he was hopelessly enamoured. 

To be fair, Prince Lance was quite beautiful. He’d gained his looks from his parents, and seemed to take after his older sister in a flattering way, as well. He had smooth skin, meticulously cared for with dozens of sweet-scented products, and eyes that were always a bright, teasing blue. Not to mention his long, long legs… 

But it wasn’t just his appearance that Keith liked. It was everything about him. Alright, maybe not Lance’s cheesy pickup lines – he didn’t understand them – but he still felt flustered when Lance aimed them in his direction anyway. He liked Lance’s personality, because it was the exact opposite of what one might first expect. He was loud and clumsy and flirtatious, though not often in a successful way. And he was very competitive, even if it made him seem undignified. He liked a challenge and didn’t like backing down.

To Keith, that was quite attractive.

He supposed it helped that he also found Lance’s appearance pleasing. 

And, for some reason, Lance felt the same way about him.

That was probably the most concerning part of it all, Keith thought. After all, Alteans had rules just as the Blade did, and forming relationships was not something they often did outside of their race. That wasn’t to say it was impossible, or unheard of, but perhaps just uncommon. Unheard of, however, for royalty.

It had been Lance who made the first move. The Alteans were hosting the Blade for diplomatic talks, and Keith had been assigned as one of the guards who would accompany the royal siblings as a gesture of goodwill. It wasn’t an unusual assignment for him. He was placed by Lance’s side, and Shiro, his superior, was placed by Princess Allura’s. 

Lance’s teasing had been intense from the very beginning. Keith was good at keeping a straight face, but Lance seemed determined to get a response from him, no matter how immature it was. He’d tease Keith endlessly, and flirt every chance he got. He liked to touch Keith’s hands when no one was looking, and sneak a teasing squeeze at his waist, like he was trying to make Keith jump. He’d always give Keith his most innocent smile afterwards, like he hadn’t done anything at all.

Keith was a little bit in love with that smile, even if he knew it was devious. 

Over the weeks they spent together, it became clear that they shared a mutual attraction to one another. Time passing made them realise it was more than just skin-deep, too. Keith knew he shouldn’t have felt what he did for Lance, that it was a relationship that would never gain the approval of either of their peoples. An Altean prince and a Guard from the Blade? It was impossible.

Lance made it feel possible. He made anything feel possible. His flirting eventually turned into something more personal, something more flustered and heartfelt. He’d been the one to take charge – he’d pinned Keith up against a wall in a secluded alcove and kissed him with all the clumsiness of someone who was clearly embarrassed out of their wits. 

“I just- I wanted to- I thought you…!” Lance had choked out half-formed sentences, his face going so red it stood out starkly against his pretty dark skin. “Oh god, I...”

Thinking that Lance might regret what he’d done had spurred Keith into action. He might not have responded the first time, too surprised to do anything but stare, but he was sure to make up for it the second time. He’d grabbed Lance by the shoulders and flipped their positions, pressing Lance to the wall so that he could kiss him with as much force as he dared. 

Since then, they’d been stealing bits and pieces of affection and time alone whenever they could. Keith tried not to think about how he wasn’t worthy of a Prince, especially not one as perfect as Lance. He wasn’t quite sure what about him enticed Lance so, what about him was pleasing to Lance. After all, he was sure Lance could have had anyone he wanted.

“If they hadn’t wanted me to fall in love with my guard then they shouldn’t have given me one that was exactly my type,” Lance said, when Keith begrudgingly mentioned his thoughts, worried that perhaps Lance would grow tired of him. “I’m more worried about you getting sick of me.” An uncharacteristically hesitant look came to his blue eyes. “After all, I’m not exactly the smartest, am I?”

Keith knew that Lance had heard some of the ruder dignitaries mention that Lance was the “dumb one” when it came to the royal siblings. Allura was very politically savvy, and as the elder sibling, she was the one slated to take over the throne. That, however, didn’t make Lance any less valuable. Their skills lied in different places, and Keith hated to think that Lance didn’t believe he was worth everything the world had to offer.

“You’re the prettiest,” Keith told him, confident, “and the friendliest. No one can charm others, or make them feel comfortable like you can. No one can calm a situation like you.” He leaned closer to press a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “And there is no better sharpshooter than you, right?”

Lance laughed, pressing their foreheads together. “You flatter me.”

“I only speak the truth, my Prince.” He’d seen Lance in action with a bow and arrow. Not even Blade members who’d extensively trained with the weapon could shoot as straight and accurately as Lance, no matter the distance.

“Flatterer,” Lance accused again, though he was turning red, his smile pleased and content. He reached up his hands to run his fingertips over Keith’s ears, which Lance often described as fluffy and soft, despite Keith’s half-offended scowls. “You’re lucky you’re so cute or else I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Uh huh.” Keith flicked his ears back, the sensitive inner-fur tickled by Lance’s wandering fingers. The two of them were lounging around in Lance’s room, as they often did when there was little work to be done. 

Keith was meant to be standing guard by the door on the inside of the room, but Lance had convinced him to join the Prince on the day bed by the window. They were bathed in sunlight, swaddled by Lance’s many decorative pillows. Keith was buried beneath Lance, who seemed insistent on using him as a bed rather than the chair itself, but he wasn’t complaining. He liked the weight of Lance pressing down on him, liked resting his hands in the dip of Lance’s back.

Lance rested his chin on Keith’s chest, blinking inquisitive blue eyes at him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just you,” he said. He was always surprised when he could make Lance blush as red as he did then, even if he was only stating the truth. 

“I hope you never leave,” Lance whispered, pressing closer. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go.” He meant it, too. The thought of leaving Lance pained him far more than he ever expected it to. He’d let himself do everything he thought he’d never want to – ache for a relationship, choose an Altean, fall in love. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not when he got to have Lance’s little affectionate stares focused on him, only him. Not when he got Lance’s kisses and attention and support. 

Lance leaned up, uncaring of how much their bodies pressed together as he grinned down at Keith. “Who would have thought you were so soft under all that armour.”

Keith cracked a small smile. Soft for Lance, perhaps, but no one else. In one movement, he flipped Lance over, like he had all those weeks again when Lance had first kissed him. He wrapped his fingers around Lance’s wrists to keep him still, delighted by the way Lance’s eyes went wide with surprise and something definitely less innocent than surprise. “Still strong enough to pin you down,” he said.

“That you are,” Lance agreed, his hips shifting restlessly. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”


	81. Keith/Lance - Slow

Lance had had a long day.

Long days weren’t always so bad. Sometimes they meant he’d gone to the city to spend time with friends, or other times it meant he’d travelled to someplace exciting and new. That day, however, was long in the most tedious way – it was boring. Traffic had been slow, work had been slow, and the clock’s ticking hand had been slow. He couldn’t decide if he was sleepy or bored and that lead to him being both.

He’d never been more ready to go home. Not only had work been slow, but he’d had to stay back late to finish something that a different employee hadn’t done properly, which sucked. It was dark by the time he left his workplace, the sun already having set more than an hour ago. When he’d realised he was going to have to stay back late, he’d text his boyfriend, so he checked to see if he’d gotten a response before he started driving. He had – Keith was going to try and make dinner by himself that evening.

That worried Lance a little, but in a fond way. It was a well-known fact that Keith wasn’t the best cook. He wasn’t terrible, and hadn’t ever accidentally burnt food to a crisp or anything, but he just wasn’t great at it. He didn’t know how to combine spices and wasn’t great at cooking meat to the right temperatures. Nothing had ever been burnt, like he’d said, but well… there had been a few close calls in the past.

Still, Lance couldn’t help but smile when he thought about going home to dinner waiting on the table. He was the one who usually cooked, while Keith cleaned and put away the dishes, so it would be nice to have the night off for once.

The drive home was as slow as expected. At least he missed most of the traffic, considering he was later than usual. 

He was glad to be home when he finally made it there. Keith had left the front light on for him, and when he opened the front door, he could smell that something had been cooking.

“I’m home,” he called, as he kicked off his shoes and dumped his bag on the floor in the front entryway.

Keith, looking somewhat frazzled, peered out at him from the kitchen doorframe, a slight frown on his face. “Hey, welcome back.”

“What are you cooking?”

“Ah.” Keith glanced away, and disappeared back into the kitchen, his voice floating out behind him. “Well, I was trying to make spaghetti. That’s easy, right? I used that simple recipe your sister gave you.”

“Which sister?” That was an important fact.

“Rachel.”

“Oh good, the nice one,” he said, amused. Rachel was much less likely to tease them compared to Veronica, who liked to one up Lance at every chance she got. She was as devious as he was. “How’d it turn out?”

“I think I probably overcooked the meat.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. The petulance in Keith’s voice made his shoulders feel lighter. Keith overcooking meat wasn’t a new thing, but the sauce should be enough to give the meal some much needed hydration, so he wasn’t worried. “Smells nice, though.”

“I made garlic bread too.”

“Oh?”

“Only half of it is a little burnt. I watched it.”

Lance snorted, shaking his head to himself. He had a disaster for a boyfriend and he loved him for it. In the kitchen, he saw that the garlic bread was looking a little black indeed, though only on one end. Really, it wasn’t even that bad. Still perfectly fine to eat – Lance had eaten worse burnt food before.

He sat at their little dining table, and returned the distracted hug Keith gave him as he busied himself with serving dinner. 

Lance could feel himself relaxing minute by minute as he watched Keith hustle around the kitchen. He’d made a mess, and looked like he’d used every dish they owned, but Lance didn’t care. He loved knowing he had someone who cared about him enough to cook him dinner on long days.

Nothing else mattered when he knew Keith was there for him.


	82. Lance/Shiro - Physical

Shiro was far more affectionate than Lance first thought he would be.

They’d been friends for a while before they started dating. Lance had always had a crush on Shiro, even if it had been a little superficial at first. It was no secret that he found Shiro incredibly attractive, but a lot of his attraction to the man came from other places too. Shiro’s career achievements impressed him to no end, and his leadership skills were compatible with Lance’s working style. He was good at treating those working under him like equals, and good at explaining problems in a way that was easy to understand Not only that, but he was a decent, kind-hearted guy who shared a lot of the same values Lance had, and was always willing to listen to any concerns anyone had.

It helped that they wanted the same thing from each other – support and stability, for the most part. Lance made have been outrageously flirtatious and a little bit stupid when it came to some things, but he was confident in who he was, and hew new what he wanted from life.

And Lance was pleasantly surprised by Shiro’s affectionate side. He certainly wasn’t complaining about it. The opposite, probably. He’d always wanted someone who was going to love him as much as he loved them, and one of the ways he knew how to express himself best was through touch. He felt grounded by physical affection, and sough it from almost everyone he knew. He was always putting his arm around Hunk’s shoulders, or ruffling Pidge’s hair, or something like that. Little things that others didn’t mind. 

Shiro was almost the same. He wasn’t as big on physical affection as Lance was, at least not with others, but he was very affectionate with Lance himself. He liked holding hands (their hands were quite different in size, and it was sweet to see Shiro’s larger one envelope his) and he liked cuddling. There was nothing better than laying on Shiro’s chest and burrowing into his arms because his natural body warmth was addicting. 

Lance had gotten pretty good at reading Shiro’s body language when it came to affection, too. Shiro would lean into Lance’s side when he wanted affection, and purposefully sling Lance’s arm around his shoulders. Lance always got the message, and would hold Shiro for as long as he wanted. Other times he’d let their knuckles brush together, or give Lance a look out from under his eyelashes that begged for attention. Not that he had to beg from Lance – Lance would have given him anything, if he could’ve. 

In the end, he loved how affectionate Shiro was. He didn’t feel like he was starved of touch, and didn’t feel like his touch was ever unwanted, which were things that had bothered him before. With Shiro, he felt like an equal in every way, and that was important to him. 

There was nobody in the entire world he loved more than Shiro.


	83. Keith/Lance - Dog

“Keep your eyes closed,” Lance whispered, his voice raw and exhausted as he wrapped the sides of his jacket tighter around the furry bundle he held to his chest. “And don’t move too much, okay?”

A rumble answered him. Lance soothed a hand down Keith’s back and tried not to feel noticeably uneasy. Only a little longer until he would pass the guards, he reasoned. If he looked miserable enough, if they didn’t look at Keith closely… he might make it. He had to make it.

He bent to press one last kiss to Keith’s ducked head before heading for the gates. It was starting to rain, and he knew that eventually the water would seep through his jacket, no matter how much he tried to hide Keith in it. 

Shifters or those with magic were hunted down and killed by the Galra. He and Lance had gotten caught up in an attack on the town they’d been temporarily staying in, and even since then the Galra had been after Keith. They’d only seen him in his human form, but his sharp teeth and slitted pupils gave him away as a shifter. As a dog, he was less noticeable, as long as he kept his eyes downcast. 

The guards perked up when Lance began edging past them. They were always harassing people on the street, grabbing women by the arm to make them show their faces, or pushing men around as if doing that proved they were stronger. If they caught anyone who had magic, or even suspected a person of having magic, then they’d become cruel and violent. Pushing, hitting, even brandishing their swords – they’d have their “fun” before handing the victim over to their superiors. 

A person would never be seen again if that happened. 

One of the guards noticed him, picking him out from the hushed crowd on the street as if he could smell Lance’s fear. He stalked closer, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade. “What have you got there, pretty boy?”

Lance winced at the sneer the guard sent him, tightening his grip on Keith. His jacket only barely covered the dog, and his tail stuck out at the bottom. It wasn’t like he could hide Keith completely, but he was hoping to slip by without attracting their attention. No such luck, it seemed.

“What, don’t want to share?” The guard threw out a hand, grabbing Lance’s arm to wrench it away from Keith. He cried out as the guard grabbed Keith by the scruff of the neck, yanking him out of Lance’s arms.

“It’s just my dog!” he cried, reaching for Keith, only to be thrown to the floor as the guard thrust his elbow into Lance’s stomach. All the air in his lungs rapidly deflated.

“Looks like an ugly mutt to me,” the guard laughed, shaking Keith as if he weighed as much as a newborn kitten. Lance was scared that Keith would snap at him, or open his eyes, revealing his nature as a shifter. But Keith stayed limp, his tail tucked between his legs, his ears pressed back.

“Please, he’s just a puppy,” Lance pleaded, teary-eyed. He was scared, but there was anger simmering away in his stomach, and the only way to hide it convincingly was to cry. “He’s my pet.”

The guard took a closer look at Keith, who seemed to sense how close he was to being discovered. He let out a high whine that sounded so real Lance wanted nothing more than to snatch him back into his arms. 

He knew that Keith hadn’t wanted to go through this plan when Lance had suggested it. Keith was injured, having been caught in the fight from the previous town. There were scratch marks on his hands and face, and he desperately needed a bath. Lance was no better. But Lance wasn’t a shifter, and he didn’t have magic – the guards would have no reason to arrest him. Hiding Keith as a dog was the best option they had of getting past the guards so that they could reunite with their friends, which had been their plan before the attack on the town.

“It’s an ugly thing,” the guard finally said, as he threw Keith to the ground. 

Keith let out a pained yelp – a real one this time, not a pretend one – and stayed where he was, slumped in the dirt. Lance scrambled towards him, scooping Keith back up against his chest, trying to hide as much of Keith in his jacket as he could. 

“Get out of here,” the guard snapped, aiming a kick at Lance’s side. He jolted out of the way before it could hit him and jumped to his feet, slinking past the guard as fast as he could. 

He wasn’t sure how long he ran for. By the time he ducked in between two buildings, the rain had truly started. He found shelter under an awning in the alleyway and waited until he’d stopped panting before carefully opened his jacket, glancing down at Keith. “You okay?” he whispered.

Keith’s purple eyes blinked open at him. He looked angry and frustrated, and Lance couldn’t blame him for that. Keith’s ears swivelled for a moment, and when he sensed no one nearby, he shifted back. In a matter of moments Lance had another boy in his arms, instead of a dog.

“Are you hurt?” Keith demanded, as he pressed Lance to the wall, his hands going to Lance’s face. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, no I’m fine,” Lance said. He gripped Keith’s hips, the touch grounding him. 

“That was a reckless plan,” Keith seethed, but Lance could tell that he was more worried than angry. “I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

“It was the only way,” Lance argued, “and it worked, didn’t it?”

They were safe for now. The guards didn’t patrol the forests, thinking that the creatures there would make quick work of anyone trying to escape through them. That was true for most people, perhaps, but not for a shifter. With Keith around, they could cut through the forest to make it to their friends in a matter of days. The hardest part was getting past the guards, and they’d already done that.

“Never risk yourself for me like that again,” Keith said, pressing his forehead against Lance’s collarbone. “I mean it.”

“I can’t promise you that,” Lance whispered. He lifted a hand to cradle the back of Keith’s head, threading his fingers through Keith’s dark hair. He could have sworn he felt Keith shaking, but it passed as quickly as he felt it. “I promise I’ll be careful, okay? You’re the one in more danger than me.”

“I can handle myself.”

“So can I.” They’d always disagreed about that. Shifters had more strength and better senses than normal people, but that didn’t mean Lance was helpless. But whenever he did get hurt, Keith took it personally, thinking that he’d failed to keep Lance safe. 

That wasn’t how they worked, though.

“We keep each other safe,” Lance reminded him quietly.

Keith conceded with a nod. Neither one of them wanted to argue. “We keep each other safe,” he agreed.


	84. Keith/Lance - Crew

The main floor of the casino was full of crowded tables. Women in slinky, glittering dresses drifted past like wisps of smoke, smelling heavily of perfume. There were boys too, wearing tightly fitting pants and cropped shirts that showed off their soft midriffs. They were as sweet and pliant as the women, and both were as much a distraction to guests as the card tables were. That was the allure of _The Blue Paladin_ casino.

Keith was interested in none of it. He stood in the doorway, breathing in the smell of perfume and money, his eyes searching the hall. He was more familiar with its layout than he ever thought he would be. The tables looked like they were arranged in a random order, but Keith knew better. The lower stake games were arranged on the outside, spiralling inwards as the stakes rose, the minimum bids become higher and higher. To an outsider, or even someone familiar with the casino, it seemed like the very centre of the room was a glorified throne.

And, of course, seated at the throne was none other than Lance.

Keith watched him, knowing the shadows were keeping him hidden from Lance’s eyes. Lance looked as stunning as usual. He was slouched in his throne, legs tossed over one of the armrests, one ankle dangling up in the air. He was dealing cards with showy flicks of his wrst, sending them skittering across the felt tabletop like rocks across a lake’s surface. It wasn’t like a mobster to deal cards in his own casino, but Lance liked to surprise people. 

After a moment, Keith made his way across the floor. He slipped past the outer ring of tables, listening to swish of cards and the muffled thump of dice rolling. A supplier never indulged in their product, and as a casino owner himself, he knew better than to gamble… even if he was sure Lance would tip the odds in his favour.

He didn’t say anything as he circled Lance’s table, but he knew Lance had noticed him the moment he stepped out of the shadows and into the moody lighting of the casino. When he passed behind Lance, he made sure to drag his fingers over the back of Lance’s neck, just a little. Just enough to tease Lance into following him.

This was the game they played. They were both dangerous in their own rights, and both controlled a large portion of the underground. Each had a strangle hold on the weapons trade and the black market, not to mention the gambling business. It seemed impossible that they would form any sort of connection at all, considering that most mob bosses usually tried to kill one another.

And maybe they had tried to kill another in the past, but that wasn’t the point. They weren’t trying to kill each other now.

Keith took himself into one of the private rooms, one Lance exclusively kept to himself. He felt confused stares on the back of his neck as regular patrons and staff watched him enter, but Lance had given him a key, and he was more than happy to flaunt his possession of it.

Lance joined him a few moments later, two champagne flutes in hand. He made to pass one to Keith, but pulled it away at the last moment, instead swooping in to place an unassuming kiss on Keith’s cheek. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here so soon, babe,” he said, smirking, as he finally handed over Keith’s glass. “Miss me already?”

“Hardly,” Keith said. Anyone else would have taken his deadpan tone as dangerous, but Lance knew it was teasing. He could always see through Keith no matter how stoic Keith kept himself. “I was in the area.”

“Oh? Making a house call?”

“Not exactly.”

Lance perked a brow. “Anything I should know about?”

Keith brandished his dagger, its freshly cleaned edges glinting in the low light of the room. “Not exactly.”

“Ah.” Lance looked amused – he knew that a freshly cleaned blade was a freshly used blade. “Well, I hope it wasn’t one of mine.”

“It wasn’t.” Keith and Lance had a sort of… agreement. They’d keep their gang members out of one another’s territory, and wouldn’t poach one another’s customers. It was impossible to keep their personal and business lives separate, but they made a go at being civil. Keith wouldn’t kill Lance’s crew, and Lance wouldn’t take Keith’s crew for all they were worth in his gambling dens.

“Now that business is over, then, why don’t you relax with me?” Lance purred. He took a sip of his drink, eyes on Keith, as he led Keith by the hand to the love seat.

Keith couldn’t say no to an offer like that. He joined Lance on the couch, letting Lance cuddle against his side as he put an arm over the back of the seat. This wasn’t his casino, but he almost felt like a king here. Having Lance’s favour, the favour of a man as powerful as him, was a sure fire to inflate someone’s ego. 

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Lance said, as he nuzzled under Keith’s chin, as affectionate as a kitten. “If you stay away too long, I feel neglected.”

“Even with all these beautiful people in your casino?”

“You know none catch my eye like you do, babe,” Lance said. “Always been that way.”

He hummed. Keith wouldn’t ever tell Lance (though he was sure Lance knew) but he quite enjoyed Lance’s compliments. He was a jealous man, and wasn’t above… taking care of anyone who tried to take Lance’s attention away from him. But, luckily for Lance’s would-be suitors, it seemed that Keith really did have all of Lance’s attention. He didn't really why, or what about him was so attractive to the most beautiful man in the city, but he wasn’t going to complain. Having Lance’s undivided, clingy attention was just what he wanted.

“You should visit more often, if that’s the case,” Keith said.

Lance gave him a slow, teasing grin. “You miss me?”

Keith snorted. He did, but he wasn’t going to say that. As much as he liked Lance, there was no way someone like him could show any weakness. Lance knew that as well as he did. “More like I want to keep an eye on you,” he said. He was teasing again, and Lance’s laugh reassured him that he knew that. 

“I’d prefer it if you kept both eyes on me,” Lance said. 

“So you can do something when I’m not looking?”

“Damn, you figured me out.”

Keith hid a smile behind a sip of champagne. It was the expensive type, because Lance didn’t do anything by halves. “I’ll keep two eyes on you if you visit.”

“Consider this a done deal, then.”

Keith pulled Lance a little closer. 

“That way I can make sure no one is taking my place,” Lance muttered. He was just as jealous as Keith.

“As if they could,” Keith said. 

Lance grinned, pleased by that answer. Keith liked pleasing him. 

“Should I expect you soon, then?” Keith asked.

“You’ll never be rid of me,” Lance declared.

Keith smirked. Good.


	85. Keith/Lance - Clumsy

Lance wasn’t exactly sure what had gotten him into this. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He was always getting himself into trouble, but it was harmless and fun, and this felt… different.

The back of his neck was aching. He was laying on the couch funny, legs propped up on the cushions, his back against the arm. At one point it had been comfortable, but he’d squirmed so much that it was starting to feel awkward. He wasn’t going to move though, not when that meant clambering out from under Keith.

“Well?” Keith demanded. His face was unnaturally red, cheeks flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “How was it?”

Lance gaped for a moment, as red as Keith. His lips still felt like there was pressure on them, and they were still damp with saliva he wasn’t completely sure was his own. “You’re not meant to ask someone that,” he eventually spluttered, embarrassed.

Keith’s frown deepened. “Why not?”

“Well…” Actually, Lance wasn’t sure why not. How was anyone meant to react when their friend had asked to kiss them out of the blue, and they’d actually agreed? Not only that, but the kissing hadn’t really stopped at one kiss either. Lance’s bruising lips were a reminder of that. “I guess I don’t know.” 

Keith snorted. There was a slight tremble in his arms from the effort of holding himself above Lance like he was, his knees pushing Lance’s legs apart. He was still close enough that Lance could feel the warmth of his breath.

“That’s not much of an answer,” Keith said.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Is talking really how you want to be spending your time or–”

Keith cut him off with another kiss, clumsily pressing their mouths together. It wasn’t really any better than their first kiss, but Lance wasn’t going to say anything. He knew that Keith had never kissed anyone before, and truthfully, he’d only had a few kisses himself. It wasn’t like he thought he was a great kisser in the first place, but at least Keith’s lack of experience would mean he would never know that.

This kiss went for longer. Even if it was no less clumsy, it was less rushed, and Keith wasn’t as forceful as before. He settled against Lance’s lap without breaking away, their stomachs pressed together. Realistically, he knew they probably shouldn’t be making out on the couch in the living room, not when Keith’s brother could arrive home at any time. But didn’t that stop them? No, it did not.

Eventually Lance’s need to breathe outweighed his desire to keep kissing, so he pulled his head back. Keith made a disgruntled noise at that, frowning at him again, like he was offended Lance had stopped. Who would have thought Keith would be so keen for affection? Lance had always thought that he just didn’t like people like that.

Turns out he just really, really liked Lance like that, and was too stupid to say anything about it.

He was lucky Lance liked him back, Lance thought. Not lucky because Lance was a great catch or anything, but lucky because it meant Lance was the one stupid enough to make the first move. Their combined stupidness had all worked out in the end. 

Keith inched closer, his weight resting down against Lance more and more. “You’re heavy,” Lance mumbled, but his grip on the small of Keith’s back said that he didn’t want Keith going anywhere. Heavy or not, Lance liked the weight of Keith holding him down. It felt… intimate. He didn’t want to admit that out loud.

“Are we…” Lance licked his lips, nervous. “Are we going to tell anyone, or anything?”

Keith’s expression mirrored his. “I mean…”

Lance sort of felt like it was his job to lead these kinds of situations. He could read people a lot better than Keith could, and that included Keith himself. He could see the hesitance in Keith’s eyes, and knew that Keith’s deeply private nature meant he was unsure about the way he interacted with others. 

“We don’t have to,” Lance offered, trying and failing to keep the relief out of his voice. “I mean, for now, if it’s just for us… I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Keith sounded oddly vulnerable, his grip on Lance’s shoulders momentarily tightening.

“I don’t,” Lance reassured him. 

“Can we just keep it quiet for a bit? Not forever, just until…”

Just until it wasn’t new. Lance was relieved that Keith wanted to keep it a secret. Imagining what their friends would say was kind of scary, just because he knew none of them would expect it. They’d do it in their own time, at their own pace.

“That’s fine with me,” Lance said, smiling a little.

Keith smiled too.


	86. Keith/Lance - Weather

It was the kind of weather outside that made Lance want to do nothing.

They’d had a strange few days when it came to the weather lately. Spring had arrived, and that meant things were starting to warm up a little, especially when the sun was out. Half the week had seen decently warm days, with nice breezes and sunshine that made Lance sleepy with warmth. The other half had felt like it was winter once more, the air chilly, the wind bitingly cold.

Lance wasn’t sure he liked it when the weather couldn’t make up its mind. The warm days meant he could wear his summer clothes, that he could walk Cosmo at any time of the day and that he could doze on the swing chair on the back porch without worrying about getting cold at some point. When it was chillier, he had to put his sweaters back on, and bury his and Keith’s bed in blankets again. It wasn’t like he hated the cold, though he did prefer the warmth. He just didn’t like flipping between the two every day. 

That day, it was cold enough to make Lance put pyjama pants on instead of shorts. He’d had to dig out socks too, because the hardwood floor made his toes cold. He normally didn’t like it when Cosmo clambered onto the couch, but he let the dog do it that day, because the warmth of his body helped stave off the cold.

Keith found him cuddling with Cosmo when he came back from running errands. As someone who wasn’t particularly bothered by the cold, he looked rather amused at Lance’s pitiful state. “Do you want me to put the heater on?” he offered, leaning one shoulder against the lounge room doorway.

“No.” Lance shook his head, tightening his arms around Cosmo’s neck. The heater could be expensive to run, and it wasn’t that cold – just cold enough to be slightly uncomfortable compared to the last few sunny days they’d had. “Your dog is the perfect hot water bottle.”

Cosmo let out a little huff at being mentioned, tilting his head in Lance’s direction.

Keith frowned at him. “You sound a little stuffy.”

“I think I’m getting sick,” Lance admitted, begrudging. That tended to happen at this time of the year, especially when the weather couldn’t make up its mind.

“A cold?”

“Probably.”

“Do you want some tea?”

“If you’re making it.”

“Alright.”

Lance went back to cuddling the dog as Keith wandered through into the kitchen. He heard the kettle being turned on, and the clink of mugs being sat down on the bench. 

When he and Keith had first started dating, and even when they’d first moved in with one another, Keith hadn’t known how to make tea at all. He’d learned how to do so just for Lance, including learning how to make it exactly how Lance liked it. Lance couldn’t help but smile when he thought about that. It was just a little thing to learn, just something simple really, but it was still a thoughtful gesture.

A sigh escaped him as he sunk his fingers into Cosmo’s thick fur. The dog was content to lounge around on him, head resting on Lance’s stomach. Lance had been a little unsure about how Cosmo would react to living with him when he and Keith moved in together, but the dog hardly seemed to notice.

He let his eyes slip closed as he listened to Keith shuffle around the kitchen, the sounds comforting and familiar. He couldn’t wait for it to be properly warm again.


	87. Keith/Lance - Mirror

The first time Lance saw the boy in the mirror, he was little more than a child, only just past his fifth winter. The freestanding mirror had been a gift from his parents – it was tall, taller than he had been, with an ornate wooden frame carved full of swirling waves and little seashells. Most children wanted toys for their birthdays, but he’d seen it at the markets and fallen in love.

He never imagined it would be a magic mirror. After all, his family wasn’t wealthy, and items of magic cost far too much to purchase. He was perfectly content with his pretty mirror, and would have been just as content if it hadn’t been magical. 

But it was magical.

He didn’t tell anyone. When he was younger, he was afraid his parents would take the pretty mirror away if they found out about it. Magical items could sometimes be dangerous, and might entice criminals to break into the house in order to steal it, if they knew about it. 

But Lance knew the magical mirror wasn’t dangerous. Something about it instilled a sense of comfort in him, like it was trying to tell him it wouldn’t hurt him. After all, the only magic thing it could do was reveal something on the other side. There were many harmless magic items out in the world, and the mirror was certainly one of them. He wanted to keep it for himself. The mirror and the friend in it were his secrets.

There was no one way to contact the boy on the other side, no way for Lance to turn the magic on by himself. Sometimes Lance would walk past the mirror and see a room reflected in it that wasn’t his own, a room with a different bed, different walls, different furnishings. The boy on the other side lived a wealthier life than Lance, but he didn’t always seem happy. 

Years had passed since Lance found out about the mirror. He and the boy – Keith – learned quickly after the discovery of the mirror’s magic that they could see and hear one another. There was no telling when the mirror would reveal the other boy, but they were always around when it did, and always alone. 

“You should smile more,” Lance told Keith, when they were around ten, and the mirror suddenly revealed Keith trying to practice looking happy. “You look nice!”

“Shut up,” Keith had said, turning away. The tips of his ears had been very red. “Everyone says I look weird.”

“You don’t,” Lance had insisted.

Over the years, he and Keith grew closer. They shared secrets through the mirror that they told no one else. When Lance realised he liked boys just as much as he liked girls, Keith was the first person he told. Keith told Lance about how he missed his mother more than he’d let on when she went away. It didn’t matter that they came from different worlds, Lance the youngest of five siblings, the son of two working parents; and Keith, an only child born into one of the royal guard families, trained from the moment he could stand to wield a blade. 

It probably wasn’t surprising that Lance fell in love with Keith. As they grew into teenagers, the mirror revealed Keith more readily, as if responding to his desire to see Keith. 

“I wish I knew where you were,” Keith confessed one evening, when they were sitting on their respective sides of the mirror. 

It was dark outside, moonlight the only thing allowing Lance to see. He had his head resting against the frame, but he turned to look at Keith when Keith’s words reached him. “Why?”

“So I can see you,” Keith said, as if it were obvious. 

Lance shifted, peering through the mirror harder. He could see Keith resting against this own mirror’s frame, one leg propped up. He was staring at the wall ahead of him like it held all the answers he could ever want. “I’m right here.”

“Not just through this mirror.”

Lance flushed, the ache in his chest widening. “Maybe one day,” he whispered. 

He knew that Keith didn’t know about his crush. How could he? At the time, he’d wished he’d had the courage to tell Keith how he felt. Maybe Keith wouldn’t be so alone if he knew how much Lance cared about him.

They were eighteen when something new happened.

Lance woke up to the sound of his mirror rattling against the wooden floor. It was the middle of the night, and so dark he had to open his curtains to see the room ahead of him. 

The mirror’s surface was revealing Keith’s room. Lance stumbled over to it, his hands gripping the frame – he was as tall as it now. On the other side, Keith was tearing apart his room. His sheets were torn, and in fit of rage, he threw everything off his desk, sending a lamp shattering to the floor. 

“Keith,” he whispered, pressing an urgent hand to the glass. “Keith! What’s wrong?”

Keith rounded on him, his face stricken. He darted over to the mirror, holding onto it tightly. “Lance?” His voice wobbled.

Lance put his hand higher up on the mirror, over Keith’s cheek, as if he could actually feel him. “What’s the matter?” 

“They’re sending me away,” Keith said, his words tripping over one another in their rush to get out. “I knew they would – it’s a part of the training, to be one of the Blade – but I don’t want to leave.”

“But isn’t that your goal?” Lance asked, confused. “To be one of the Blades?” 

“It used to be,” Keith said, “but it’s not– I don’t want to leave. I want to do my training here, and be employed here in the castle. Not out in the field.”

Lance had never heard this before. He’d always thought Keith had wanted to leave the safety of the castle, where all the young soldiers trained. “Why the change of heart?”

Keith frowned, shifting uneasily, hunching into his shoulders. “That was always my mother’s goal for me. To be out in the field with her, to be a Blade like her. I never questioned it. But now…”

“But now?”

“Now I want something else,” Keith said. “Lance, if I leave, I won’t ever come back.”

Lance’s heart dropped. “What?”

“Blades in the field – they don’t ever settle down, ever stop performing their duty. We take an oath to always do what’s best for the country, and that means forfeiting any sort of life as a civilian. Most never even have children, or only have one, to carry on their line. Blades aren’t allowed to… to…”

Lance got the picture. If Keith became a Blade, he’d never stand before the mirror again. He’d always be working, always be on the move. He’d have no time for relationships, for friendships… for lovers.

“I don’t want to leave,” Keith whispered, ducking his head.

“I don’t want you to go,” Lance said, before he could stop himself. He pressed closer to the mirror, desperately wishing he could touch Keith. 

Keith looked up at him.

And then, suddenly, the mirror’s surface gave way. Keith’s eyes widened with surprise as he was suddenly tipping forwards, tumbling through right into Lance’s lap. Lance fell backwards, the air rushing form his lungs as he hit the floor.

“Keith?” he cried

“What the…” Keith pushed himself up on his hands, one leg still hooked into his side of the mirror. He was nose-to-nose with Lance, so close that Lance felt his heart give a nervous shudder.

“How did you…?” Lance’s question trailed off. “Wait, pull the rest of yourself through!” He gripped Keith at the hip sand hauled him through, frightened that the mirror might close with Keith still on the other side. 

“I’m through,” Keith said, sounding as startled as Lance felt. “I’m through!”

Lance couldn’t help himself – he hugged Keith as tightly as he could, uncaring if they were on the cold floor of his bedroom, uncaring that Keith’s knee was pressed uncomfortably hard against the crease between his stomach and thigh. “I can’t believe it,” he said.

Keith held him just as tightly, if not tighter, his fingers digging into Lance’s back. “This is what I wanted,” he said quietly. 

Lance smiled, turning his face into Keith’s neck. “I know the feeling.”


	88. Keith/Lance - Chatter

Keith had never lived in a house filled with noise. His parents were generally quite quiet when they around, and when they weren’t it was dead silent. As a teen he’d gotten a dog, but Cosmo never barked, and didn’t often whine. He was used to the silence, and found it comforting in a way that was both reassuring and lonely.

But it was different in Lance’s house.

The first time he’d gone to visit Lance’s home, he’d been overwhelmed. Lance was the youngest of five siblings, and all his brothers and sisters were more than happy to tease him. They were just as loud – if not louder – than Lance, and their laughter filled ever crook and crevice of every room. It was as if the house itself didn’t know what quietness was.

He didn’t like it, at first.

He soon grew to miss it when he swallowed by the silence of his own home.

Maybe it was just Lance he missed. The guy had a way of weaselling his way into Keith’s head and he didn’t even know it. His smiles, his voice, his casual touches and even his dumb jokes – they broke Keith down in the best way possible, plied him with sweetness and charm. A smile from Lance could make Keith smile. A laugh from Lance could make Keith laugh.

In some ways, it felt unfair. How could one person change so much about Keith? Make him feel like he didn’t know himself? But it was never in a way that frightened him. He liked being the person he was, and he liked coming out of his shell a little. Lance made him feel comfortable to be himself and how could he hate that, even when it made him vulnerable? Lance was good at making him feel confident, at making him feel desired. And who didn’t want to feel like that?

It was the noise of Lance’s house that surprised him the most, though. Like he’d said, he hadn’t liked it at first. It had been overwhelming; suffocating. There were always footsteps coming up the stairs, always clangs echoing around the kitchen from trays being put into the ocean and mugs being placed on the countertop. A constant murmur of chatter came through every wall. 

But he became used to it, after a while. When he became overwhelmed, Lance grounded him. He’d said, “Yeah, sorry, my family can be loud sometimes,” and “Even if they’re noisy, they won’t shout or yell or anything” and that comforted Keith. Lance’s parents were always very kind to him, and his siblings teased Lance to make Keith feel more comfortable, much to Lance’s embarrassment.

The way he was folded into their family was so natural he didn’t even notice it had happened until it was done.

“They like you,” Lance told him, when they overheard Lance’s mother talking to his father, saying she wished Keith would visit more often. “And besides, they know I’m serious about you. Of course they want you here. You make me happy.”

Keith wished he could tell Lance _you make me happier_ or _I want to stay over more because your family makes me feel welcome_ or _I never want to leave,_ but he couldn’t get the words out. He was embarrassed, he was flushed, he was delighted in ways he didn’t know he could be, and Lance seemed to understand. Keith’s flustered attempts to squash his own smiles told Lance all he needed to know, it seemed, because he’d cuddle Keith closer and let Keith clutch at his hips. 

The noise was good, he decided.


	89. Keith/Lance - Fishing

Lance laughed as he watched Keith try to reel in his catch. A fisherman Keith was not.

It was a pretty nice day. Sunny, but not hot, with a refreshing breeze that ruffled through the trees and made the water’s surface ripple. A good day for fishing, because it was quiet and warm, and the fish were out. Lance father used to take him fishing all the time, and he still did when they both had time free, but it wasn’t something Lance often did. He’d been very surprised when Keith asked to do it.

He still wasn’t quite sure why Keith had asked in the first place, actually. Fishing was a silent, patient pastime, and neither of those things really suited Keith. He preferred to be active, to be on the move – fishing meant he had to be still, to wait patiently for the excitement to come to him.

A part of Lance wondered if maybe Keith wanted to feel more involved. Lance was always talking about things he did with his family as a kid. He’d grown up with four siblings and two parents who were interested in a variety of different hobbies, so there was always something new for him to try, especially because he was the youngest kid. He got to knit with his mother and Rachel, taking trips to fabric shops to find the prettiest yarns. And Luis taught him how to change a tire, because he loved working on cars and had been taught by their father when he was Lance’s age.

That sort of thing was something Keith didn’t have. He was an only child, and his parents were sort of absent, even though they loved him dearly. When they started dating, Keith had been a little overwhelmed by Lance’s family, but he seemed to have grown quite comfortable around them now. Comfortable enough to want to feel as involved as Lance did.

It was sweet, really. Lance loved that Keith was secretly a softie on the inside, even if Keith would never admit it out loud. 

But fishing really wasn’t Keith’s strong point.

“This isn’t working,” Lance said around bursts of breathless laugher as he watched Keith glare at his empty hook. Once again, his bait had been entirely eaten by the fish, without a single one catching on the line. “I don’t think fishing is your thing, babe.”

Keith rolled his eyes, conceding. “Probably not.”

“Aw.” Lance set aside his fishing rod in favour of grabbing at Keith, sidling up to him with a warm grin. “That’s okay. This is still fun.”

“Because I’m failing so hard?”

“Partially.”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“But mostly just because I get to spend time with you,” Lance said, grinning harder when Keith turned his eyes away, cheeks red. Even after all the time they’d been together, Keith was still easily flustered by Lance’s heartfelt comments. It made Lance all the more eager to say them. “Seriously though, you suck at fishing.”

“Shut up, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short for tonight since I had a terrible day. My car broke down three times on the way to university, and had to be towed home, which is going to cost me so much in towing fees. Not to mention I need to take it to the mechanics tomorrow... sigh.


	90. Keith/Lance - Press

It was strange how quickly Keith became used to Lance in his bed. He became so used to it that without Lance, he could hardly fall asleep anymore.

He never pegged himself as the type to be like that. He knew he wasn’t overly affectionate, even if he did like touching and being touched by Lance. But he’d never shared a bed with anyone, and never really needed anything in particular to fall asleep, not like how some people needed absolute quiet, or how others liked to have white noise in the background. 

When he was with Lance, and they’d been together for long enough to start sleeping together, he surprised himself by how quickly he became dependant on Lance’s presence to sleep. There was something about Lance that was comfortable and relaxing, and a sleepy Lance was so different to a normal Lance that it was hard not to feel sleepy, too. 

Lance just had a way of sprawling across Keith that Keith really liked, he supposed. It was sort of like when Cosmo fell asleep in his lap, and he didn’t want to get up just in case his movements woke the dog. Whenever Lance fell asleep on or beside him, Keith had no motivation to move. And Lance really did fall asleep on Keith quite a lot. He liked to cuddle, and when they slept together, he always pressed close, slinging one part or another over Keith, or whining until Keith did the same to him.

One afternoon, when they’d dragged pillows and blankets onto the floor to watch movies off of Keith’s laptop, Keith had fallen to sleep on his back. He’d been quite comfortable, despite the stiffness of the floor against his spine, and had fallen asleep as bars of sunlight fell through the curtains across him. He'd woken up briefly, just for a moment, to find Lance’s head resting against his collarbones. All he’d been able to see were the fluffy tufts of Lance’s hair, but he’d felt Lance’s breathes against his chest, and Lance’s knee tossed over his thighs.

Another evening, they’d been resting on the couch after dinner, Lance seated upright with Keith leaning against him. Keith had dozed off, lulled by the sound of the television and the rain outside. He’d slipped downwards, his head pillowed against Lance’s legs, one of his arms reached over Lance’s knees in the same way he usually gripped his pillow. Lance’s fingers carding through his hair had kept him from waking up.

But his favourite way to sleep was something different altogether. 

He’d fallen asleep on his stomach, his arms crossed under his head. They were sleeping in his bed that evening – Lance was staying over for the night, as he often did if Keith wasn’t at his house. Keith knew that he fell asleep before Lance, which wasn’t usually the case. He must’ve been tired, because the moment his cheek touched his arms, he was asleep. He didn’t wake up when Lance sprawled himself against his back.

There was something about the weight of Lance pressing down on him that he undeniably liked. In winter, he liked the weight of his thick blankets, but with Lance it was something different. He’d laid himself almost directly on top of Keith, his chest pressed to Keith’s back, his cheek resting against Keith’s shoulder blades. The warmth of his stomach bled through the small of Keith’s back and it was hypnotising. Even if his lungs felt a little squashed, he hadn’t dared to move. 

When it came down to it, what he liked most was just Lance.


	91. Keith/Lance - Hiding

Lance squirmed in the passenger seat of Keith’s car. His seatbelt was digging into the scent gland on his neck and he was worried it would make his smell linger. That was the last thing he wanted. If he’d known that he was this close to his heat, he definitely wouldn’t have so eagerly claimed shotgun for himself.

“You’re not chickening out, are you?” Hunk leaned forwards from the backseat to stare at Lance. “Because you’re totally freaking out right now, I can smell it.”

“I am not,” Lance scoffed, indignant. 

“You’re not allowed to back out,” Keith muttered from behind the wheel, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the road. Lance had been the one to force Keith to come to this party as a consequence for losing a bet, and everyone knew that Keith wasn’t a party person.

Not that this was really a party. They were celebrating an achievement that Pidge’s brother, Matt, had made – Lance wasn’t sure what, but it was pretty big. All of their friends were invited, and there would be a lot of nice food and good music. It was the sort of party he’d seen a dozen times over in his own family, the kind he enjoyed a lot.

And so what if he wanted Keith to come, too? The alpha always said no to these sorts of things, and hardly ever wanted to go to get-togethers. He wasn’t very social, even if he did spend a fair amount of time with their friends. But Lance wanted to be around him more, and forcing him to come to the party had seemed like a great idea at the time. Now he was blaming his omega instincts for encouraging his stupid crush on Keith.

“I’m not backing out,” Lance repeated, sinking further into his seat as he lifted a hand to cover his neck, hiding the gesture in a shrug. “I’m just hungry.”

“Ooh, do you think Mrs Holt is going to make those little pastries again?” Hunk asked. “You know those cranberry ones she made for Pidge’s birthday? Those were delicious.” 

With the conversation diverted, Lance told himself to relax. He’d never revealed his secondary gender to his friends, not even Hunk, who he told everything. Most people assumed he was a beta, and he was okay with that. He’d presented really late for an omega, so most people had assumed he was a beta because of that, and he’d never corrected them. But when it really came down to it, he wasn’t a beta. He was an omega.

And omegas had heats.

While there were suppressants available that would stop an omega’s heats completely, they could be dangerous when used long-term. Lance’s heats had been really harsh – not just the first one, which was always the worst, but all of them – so his doctor had recommended the suppressants to him. He’d taken them for a while, but they’d made him sick, so he’d had to go off them. He took a lesser dose of a different brand now, one designed to help hide his scent and take the worst bite off his heat, but there was no way to completely get rid of that.

Not that he wanted to, or anything. He wasn’t ashamed of being an omega even if it seemed that way. Heats were just… tough. They messed with his ability to think rationally, and his ones lasted longer than the average four days, usually quelling around six. He didn’t like how vulnerable and out of control they made him feel. It wasn’t like he lost his mind or anything, but he was easily distracted, and very spaced out.

In any case, he hadn’t told any of his friends about his status. He knew everyone else’s, but there wasn’t pressure for him to share. Secondary genders were a little more private than primary ones, and his friends thought he was a beta anyway. He wasn’t going to tell them otherwise. 

Which meant he definitely had to be careful about where he left his scent.

It was a known fact that scent of an omega near or in heat would be the strongest over an alpha or beta’s. While an alpha’s scent was much more intense, and could usually overpower anyone else’s, an omega near heat would have the more potent scent. There was no mistaking it. 

The Holt’s house appeared around the bend, and soon Keith was pulling the car into their driveway. Warm light spilled out of their front window. Lance tried not to appear reluctant as he trailed after Hunk and Keith, only half-heartedly listening to Hunk’s rambling. 

Like he expected, the party was already well under way by the time they made their way inside. Allura and Coran were there, chatting with Sam about something important or other, if the intense looks on their faces were anything to go by. He spotted Shiro and Adam chatting with Matt, and Pidge was slumped in a chair with her tablet in front of her nose.

When she spotted them, she set it aside, and jumped to her feet. “Finally! What took you so long?”

“Looking this perfect takes time, you know,” Lance said, because it was the type of thing he’d usually say to explain their lateness – not that they were all that late, actually. Ten minutes at the most. And that was because convincing Keith to move was like asking a mountain to relocate a few metres to the left.

Pidge snorted. “Uh huh. Anyway, you guys hungry? We have those cranberry pastries you like, Hunk.”

Hunk grinned, his beta scent swelling with eagerness. “Yes!”

Lance drifted behind them, his stomach churning at the thought of food. He hadn’t eaten all day and should have noticed it as a sign of his impending heat. All omegas went through a pre-heat phase with various symptoms. Half of Lance’s left him reluctant to eat, but the other half – the few days closest to his heat – had him eating like crazy to make up for it. 

He should have been keeping better track of his cycle. He’d gone off of all his suppressants the month previous, knowing he needed to give his body a break. He’d been layering himself in scent-blocking shampoos and soaps and perfumes to keep his scent hidden, and it had been working perfectly fine. But if he couldn’t hide his omega instincts…

Lance tried to act as normally as he could. After briefly saying hello to Matt, the four of them wandered over to the food table, much to Hunk’s delight. There was a bunch of food ready to be eaten, so Lance got what he normally did – pizza and pastry. Those cranberry ones Mrs Holt made really were the best, even he had to admit that. 

Pidge led them to the back patio, where fairy lights and candles in mason jars gave them plenty of light to see by. Lance slumped in one of the deck chairs and drew his knees to his chest, resting his plate on them. The scent of food was thick in his nose, and it was making him feel a little queasy.

Conversation flowed around him. He only listened with half an ear, disguising his unease with tiny bites of food that would hopefully trick the others into thinking he was distracted by eating. Food settled in his stomach like rocks.

“Oh, Shay said to say sorry she couldn’t make it, by the way,” Hunk said, facing Pidge. “She’s got an exam next week and is studying like mad.”

“It’s fine.” Pidge waved a hand. “Tell her I said good luck. Your exams are done now, right?”

“Yeah, finished yesterday,” Hunk grinned. 

“What about you, Lance?”

“Huh?” He glanced up at the sound of his name. 

Pidge raised a brow. “Your exams.”

“Oh, I finished a few days ago,” Lance said. It was great timing, actually. This would be his first heat since he’d started university, considering he’d been on suppressants for a while. His official university records had him registered as an omega, so he would have been able to get academic consideration if his heat had coincided with his exams, but he hadn’t wanted anyone to ask about it.

“I didn’t know that,” Pidge said, surprised.

“Neither did I,” Keith added, looking at Lance with a small, confused frown.

Lance flushed under his gaze. “Must have forgotten to mention it,” he said with a strained laugh. Truthfully, he’d been feeling so off that he just hadn’t thought to say anything. He hadn’t realised at the time, but shortly after his exams had finished he’d gone onto pre-heat, and that had made him distracted. 

“Are you feeling okay, Lance?” Hunk asked. “You’re looking a little red.”

“I…” Lance hesitated. “I’m feeling a little sick, actually.”

Hunk gave him a worried look. “Do you want to go home?”

“Nah, its fine. Just got to get some food in me,” Lance said, holding up his plate as evidence.

Hunk didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push the issue.

Lance managed to skate by for the rest of the evening. He pushed his food around his plate or fed bits to Rover when no one was looking, answered just enough questions to seem like he was paying attention, and joined in on the festivities when needed. There was a toast to Matt before Mrs Holt brought out a celebratory cake. Lance made sure to speak to all of his friends as they milled around the house, not wanting to seem like he was acting unusually.

That sort of paranoia was what really got to him. Omegas became quite territorial and secretive when they were nearing heat, needing somewhere private to nest, somewhere that was all their own. It wasn’t unusual for omegas, even very placid ones, to develop control issues when they were going onto heat. Lance needing to keep control of his secret was just a big red sign about how omega he was.

Which, again, wasn’t a bad thing. He just wanted to keep it to himself, that was all.

When everyone was busy chatting, Lance slipped back outside. The patio was empty now, the candles dying down. The night’s cool air helped take the heat out of his cheeks. He sat down on the patio steps and took a discreet sniff of his shirt collar, trying to see if his scent was becoming strong enough to overpower his blocking perfumes. 

“Why are you out here?”

Lance jumped. “What?” He hadn’t even heard the back door slide open, and yet there Keith stood, frowning something fierce.

“You argued so much to get me to come here tonight but you haven’t socialised at all,” Keith said, matter-of-factly, as he slid the door shut behind himself. 

Lance scowled. He lifted a hand to cover his neck as he looked away from Keith. “I’m just not feeling well. Probably ate something weird,” he lied.

Keith narrowed his eyes. Deceiving him was always harder than deceiving Hunk, because Hunk knew when not to push Lance. Keith walked over to the stairs and leaned against the porch railing, his eyes still fixed on Lance. “You don’t smell sick.” 

“Don’t sniff me,” Lance muttered. He continued to scowl furiously at his knees even though he felt Keith’s stare on the side of his face. 

“Can’t help it when your scent is everywhere,” Keith countered. “You smell different from usual.”

Damn Keith’s alpha nose. Lance’s fingers tightened around his neck, as if he could supress his scent gland. “Just sick,” he said again.

Keith made a small noise. “You don’t smell sick,” he repeated. 

Lance scowled.

Keith stared.

Were they really going to do this all evening? “What do you want?”

“Nothing, just…” Keith pursed his lips, then in a flash, he bent down and pressed his nose against Lance’s hair. “Your scent– I’ve been smelling something on you for weeks–”

Lance flinched back, his pulse jolting. “Hey, back up!”

Keith did, but he was clearly reluctant about it. “What is up with you? You’ve been acting so weird lately.”

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes you have.”

“I haven’t.”

“You have.”

“I haven’t.”

“You really have.”

“How would you know anyway?” Lance argued.

“Because I watch you all the time,” Keith said, as if that were a perfectly normal thing to say.

“What?” Lance spluttered.

Keith shrugged a shoulder. His eyes had a nervous look to them, but his voice was steady. “I watch you. A lot.”

“Why?”

Keith only shrugged again, his cheeks going a bit pink. Lance could smell embarrassment on his scent.

He’d had a crush on Keith for ages now. They hadn’t gotten along at first, but even if they were still ridiculously competitive with one another, they’d become friends. Lance had never been able to deny that he found Keith’s scent attractive, even before then. 

But he’d always been sure Keith would never like him back. After all, Keith had never displayed an interest in anyone, regardless of their primary or secondary gender. Why would Lance ever be an exception, even if Keith knew he was an omega? 

“You’re hiding something,” Keith said.

“I’m not.”

Keith frowned. “Then why are you covering your neck? You’ve been doing that all evening.”

Lance tensed, feeling cornered. It must have shown in his scent, because Keith backed away a little, though he didn’t leave. After a moment, when Lance didn’t make a break for it, Keith leaned back in, taking a delicate sniff of Lance’s neck again. 

“You smell like…” Keith trailed off, his brows knitting.

Lance wasn’t sure why he didn’t leave. He knew Keith was going to figure it out sooner or later, especially if he stayed where he was. Alpha’s usually had the best sense of smell out of the three secondary dynamics, and with Lance’s blockers wearing off like they were, it was obvious Keith was going to realise what Lance was.

“Wait,” Keith said, as he suddenly jumped back. “Wait a second.”

Shrinking into his shoulders, Lance looked away.

“You’re an _omega?”_

“Any louder and the whole street will hear you,” Lance snapped.

“You’re an omega,” Keith repeated, shocked. “That’s what I’ve been smelling.”

“I swear to God, Keith–”

Keith leaned towards him again, batting Lance’s hands out of the way so that he could shove his nose right up against Lance’s scent glands. He let out a quiet rumble as he breathed in Lance’s scent, making Lance stiffen. He’d never heard such a purely alpha sound come out of Keith before.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Nothing, I just–” Keith’s words trailed off as he slumped against Lance’s side, his scent swelling with something dizzyingly pleased. 

Lance wanted to melt, but he wouldn’t let himself. He could read body language just about as well as anyone else, and Keith was putting out some strong signals. But was it just because he was an omega?

As if Keith could hear his thoughts, he suddenly pulled away, looking a little sheepish. “Sorry,” he said.

Lance said nothing.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Keith asked. “Your scent is getting stronger.”

Lance hesitated. “You don’t need to be nice to me just because you found out,” he said.

Keith gave him a confused look, and then his eyebrows went up. “I’m being nice to you because I’ve had a crush on you for months, but I could never scent if you liked me back or not,” he said. “But now I can. Smell you, I mean. Finding out you’re an omega is just a by-product of that I guess.”

A strange numbness spread through Lance. He blinked several times, trying to process what he’d heard. “Come again?”

Keith rolled his eyes. He put a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he stood. “Wait here, I’m going to tell the others I’m taking you home.”

“But–”

“I’ll just say you’re sick.”

“O-okay…”

A moment later, and Lance was sitting on the step by himself again. His hand absentmindedly went back to his neck. He could almost feel Keith’s nose pressed again his skin.

Had Keith said he’d liked Lance for months? That would’ve been back when he was still on suppressants, and smelling like a beta. Keith had liked him then. It was almost too much to process. He glanced back through the sliding door, where he could see Keith talking to Pidge and Shiro. His face heated up just at the sight of the alpha.

What exactly just happened?

Either way, Keith wasn’t wrong when he said Lance’s scent was getting stronger. He could smell it on himself now, sweet and cloying. 

Maybe his feelings weren’t unrequited. After all, if what Keith said was true, then Keith had liked him for longer than Lance had liked Keith.


	92. Kinkade/Lance - Sniper

Lance peered down the eye of his rifle, his finger poised on the trigger. He could see the target clearly, even from hundreds of metres away, and twenty-four stories up. The hollowed out rubble of a city devoid of citizens made the perfect place for sniper practice.

“Best out of seven?” Kinkade asked from beside him.

Lance snorted. He’d already won the first three rounds. “You’re on.”

With his sights locked on his target, Lance pulled the trigger. The brief, silent burst of air marked the rush of his bullet as it left the gun. Through the eye of his rifle, he watched the tin can they’d placed on a brick in the middle of the street go flying. His gaze swung to the side, where Kinkade’s tin still stood, unharmed. A singed hole in the ground smoked beside the brick.

“Huh!” Lance said, victorious. “Looks like I win again.”

Kinkade didn’t answer, but Lance was used to his silence. They’d spent a lot of time practicing together once Lance had been released from the hospital, since there wasn’t much else to do – neither one of them were heavily involved in politics, after all. Lance had gotten used to Kinkade’s quiet personality in the time they’d gotten to know one another. Kinkade didn’t like to talk much, but that was okay, since Lance could talk enough for the both of them.

“Best out of nine?” Lance teased.

Kinkade simply realigned his rifle.

Lance copied him, grinning. They still had a bunch of cans lined up, enough so that they could practice for a while before needing to find new targets. Even though Lance wasn’t using his bayard – since it sort of gave him an unfair advantage – he’d quickly gotten used to the standard issue long-distance rifles borrowed from the Garrison. 

A lot of afternoons were spent practicing. Lance was used to doing it on his own, and had been surprised when Kinkade asked him if he could join. It made sense, since he was the sniper on the MFE team. And Lance was happy for the company. It wasn’t interesting for Hunk or Pidge to sit with him while he spent hours sniping tiny targets from ages away. 

But Kinkade was surprisingly competitive under all those stoic expressions. He learned incredibly quickly, and always watched Lance with analytical eyes, taking in all he could. Lance liked to push him, to extend Kinkade’s skills. It was why their targets were so far away that afternoon. That and it was great practice, of course.

“How is your family?” Kinkade asked.

“They’re doing okay,” Lance said. When he’d learned that Kinkade’s family were at a station on the other side of the world, he’d taken to talking about his family as much as he could. He got the sense that Kinkade found it comforting, rather than intrusive. “Sylvio and Nadia love hearing about all the cool things we did in space. I only tell them about the fun stuff, though. I don’t want them knowing about the… other stuff. They’re still young, you know? And they already saw so much bad shit just on Earth. They don’t need to know everything yet.”

Kinkade hummed.

“I’m running out of stories,” Lance admitted with a laugh. “I’m not the best storyteller, you know.”

“I doubt that.”

Lance grinned. Kinkade was always so honest about every word he said, even if they were few. Lance liked that about him. Truth be told, he was starting to like a lot about Kinkade. “Did I tell you Rachel still won’t give my jacket back? Wearing the Garrison uniform is giving me too many flashbacks, man.”

“Orange is not the best colour.”

“Right?”

“It looks good on you, though.”

“Aw, thanks.” Lance didn’t think he could smile any wider. “Flattery won’t distract me from beating you, though.” He aimed, and took another shot, feeling satisfied when the tin can went flying again.

Kinkade sighed, as if put out. It was about as sarcastic as he would ever get.

“I think she just misses me still, even though I’m here,” Lance said. He lowered his gun and twisted around, pressing his back to the ledge they were leaning against instead. He could take a break from practice for a bit. “Even though I’m here, I’m not here, you know? Like she didn’t know where I was for so long, or if I was still alive… We’re the closest in age so we were always together, and she was always told to look out for me when our older siblings were busy.”

Kinkade twisted around too. When he settled, he was so close his shoulder was touching Lance’s. “She can still miss you, even if you’re there,” he said.

Lance thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re pretty smart, you know.”

A small smile twitched in the corner of Kinkade’s mouth.

He had a handsome face, Lance thought. Like, could probably be seen in a magazine, handsome. His jaw was stiff and sharp, and his cheekbones were high. Lance always wondered if he was into skincare, because his face looked perfectly smooth, and his dark skin hardly ever had blemishes. Lance was almost jealous. 

“Can I take your picture?” Kinkade suddenly asked.

“Huh?” Lance was so busy staring at Kinkade’s killer jawline that he hadn’t even noticed Kinkade staring back at him. “My picture?”

“I wanted to be a photographer before a pilot,” he said. “I still have my camera.”

“Really? That’s so amazing!” Lance exclaimed, impressed. “Were you any good at it?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

That was definitely flirting, Lance was sure of it. Giddiness was swelling in his stomach. “Guess I will,” he said.

It had been a while since he’d felt so comfortable around a person. Something about Kinkade was just so down to earth that Lance couldn’t help but like him. He didn’t care if others thought Kinkade was too silent to be interesting. All one had to do was get to know him a bit and then his wild intelligence and compassionate heart did all the work for him. 

After a moment where all they did was look at one another, they turned back to shooting, shuffling the appropriate distance apart. Lance had managed to find excuses to hang out with Kinkade outside of practice – sharing a meal, wanting to see the MFE planes, that sort of thing – but now he had another one. One that Kinkade had suggested, too.

And wasn’t taking someone’s photograph a little romantic? Lance thought it was.

He was looking forwards to it.


	93. Keith/Lance - Droplets

Lance pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, trying to fight off the cold of the forest. He could see the faint glow of the town peeking over the treetops ahead, and made himself continue walking towards it. Night time had arrived hours ago, and the cold winter’s air was starting to turn his fingertips blue. He was lucky snow hadn’t started falling for the year yet.

The braying of hounds from the woods behind him made him hurry. 

They’d been after him for hours. He’d made the mistake of bathing in the river to the south, wanting to clean himself. Water fey like him needed to hydrate their wings frequently if they were away from water to keep them in proper flying condition. It had been more than three days since he’d last washed them, and the river had been so tempting.

He should have known that poachers would be watching the waterways. They knew that water fey had to rehydrate their wings, and that eventually he’d need to make his way to a water source. He should have been more careful. 

Now they were following him. The frigid temperatures made it almost impossible for him to fly, lest his wings frost over. He’d had to run on foot, and he wasn’t the fastest. He wouldn’t be able to outrun the dogs for much longer, but if he could just make it to the town…

Out of breath, Lance stumbled against a tree, bending over his knees. His breaths made puffs of mist just past his lips. Was snow closer than he thought?

A howl broke through the chilly air.

Lance jerked upright, his heart stuttering. That howl was much, much closer than the rest, and the voice was deeper. It sounded more like a wolf than a hunting dog. Spurred on, Lance pushed himself away from the tree and carried on. The moon was giving plenty of light to see by, but still he stumbled, his feet aching. 

Trees flashed by. Lance ached to fly, to take off into the sky where the poachers couldn’t follow, but he couldn’t risk his wings. No fey would, not when the night was becoming so cold. The threat of frost was too much. Instead he was forced to run, ducking under branches, ignoring the cuts and bruises blossoming on his skin.

The barking of the hounds drew closer. Lance could hear them breaking through the underbrush, their paws thundering across the earth. 

A knotted root protruding from the ground caught Lance’s ankle. He cried out as he hit the dirt, the air rushing straight out of his lungs. The ankle he’d tripped on throbbed, the pain travelling all the way up to his knee. He tried to scramble to his feet, but the pain was so bad he couldn’t stand. 

There was no way he could run anymore.

Suddenly, a roar broke through the trees in front of him. He cowered, crying out as a wolf three times the normal size burst through the foliage. He waited to feel its jaws clamp around him, dig through his skin, but nothing came. Instead the wolf leapt over him, disappearing back into the trees. He watched it go with frightened, wide eyes.

That was no ordinary wolf. It couldn’t have been, not when it was so large. A shifter, maybe? But why would a shifter help him? Shifters were notorious for being lone wolves. Sometimes they formed packs, but even then, they were only loyal to those they cared about. They were just as endangered as fey and couldn’t risk being out in the open. 

Lance tried to calm himself down. He grabbed at the nearest tree to steady himself as he slowly got back to his feet. Putting any pressure on his ankle made it ache, so he had to keep it off the ground.

Snarls and yelps reached him. He glanced into the trees but he couldn’t see anything. There were growls, and then shouts – the poachers? Then silence. That was what frightened Lance the most. He couldn’t hear anything but his laboured breathing. He waited until he heard footsteps before pressing his back to the tree.

Out of the shadows, the wolf appeared. Its fur was dishevelled, sticking up in places, clumped together in others. There was a mark on the side of its muzzle, one that looked raw and painful. Fresh. Had the wolf gotten it from the dogs? It wasn’t there before, Lance was certain. He definitely would have seen it.

Slowly, the wolf stepped closer, its ears flicking back. It lowered its head, its violet stare pinned on Lance, who was frozen in place. The wolf approached, sniffing at Lance, its ears briefly swivelling as if in thought. It let out a low rumble, and pressed its nose to Lance’s chest, ignoring his flinch. 

“Okay, okay!” Lance all but squeaked, as it jostled against him. It wanted him to lean against it, so he did, carefully putting one of his arms over its broad back. As intimidating as the wolf was, he didn’t feel like it was going to hurt him. If it wanted to, it would’ve already.

The wolf led him away from the tree, nudging at Lance until Lance rested more of his weight against it. Even though Lance was going as fast as he could, the wolf seemed impatient, and it suddenly bumped against Lance. He was knocked off his feet, and the wolf shouldered him onto its back. Lance made a winded noise as his feet left the ground, clutching fistfuls of the wolf’s fur as he struggled to swing a leg overs its back.

Satisfied, the wolf started to move faster, its ears perked up.

Lance pressed his face against his back, his strength leaving him. “Thank you,” he mumbled into its fur. He felt a rumble go through its chest, and then closed his eyes.

 

He woke in an unfamiliar room, stretched out on a lounge. There was a blanket thrown over him, and a fire steadily burning in the fireplace across the room. He was warm, the chill chased away from his fingertips. When he turned his head to the side, blinking, he saw a large dish of water left on the low table beside the lounge.

Sitting upright, he turned away from the dish, and took off his jacket and shirt, letting the fabric pool in his lap. His wings fluttered, making a soft whooshing sound. The dish was wide enough for him to dip the tip of a wing in, which he did. The water felt cool and refreshing on the membrane of his wings, and he sighed as the feeling washed over him. He repeated the action for his other wing, and then fluttered them a few times again, spraying tiny droplets of water everywhere.

“You’re awake.”

Lance jumped, flicking more water around. A man stood in the doorway, his violet eyes trained on Lance, a mug clutched between his hands. He came closer and handed Lance the mug, even as Lance’s wings shrunk back against his back, betraying his nervousness. 

“Drink,” he said.

Lance did. Warm tea met his tongue, and he took several grateful gulps. 

“Why were those poachers after you?” the man asked.

Lance fluttered his wings. “Why else?”

The man nodded. “You can stay here for a while. More will be hanging around in the forest.”

“You saved me,” Lance said.

The man said nothing.

“Why?” Lance pressed. “You could have been hurt.”

“They would have caught you,” the shifter said. 

Lance looked down. That was true. He wouldn’t have been able to make it to the town, not after he hurt his ankle. “Thanks,” he said again. He looked up. “My name is Lance, by the way.”

“Keith,” the wolf said. He leaned closer, sniffing the air. “You smell… strange.”

Lance went red, embarrassed. “Well I haven’t showered in a while!”

“It’s not that,” Keith said, as if it didn’t matter. “I’ve never smelled anyone like you before. It’s how I found you so easily in the forest. Your scent drew me in.”

He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. He knew that shifters sometimes said that the scent of their mate was more attractive than usual. And he couldn’t deny that he himself thought there was something about the wolf that felt different – after all, he’d trusted it easily out in the forest. That had to count for something.

Maybe he’d stick around for a little while, if Keith didn’t mind. It would be good to stay low for some time anyway, considering the poachers would know there was a water fey and a shifter in the area. He needed time for his ankle to heal, too.

“I’ll get you another blanket,” Keith said, standing. He glanced at the water dish, now half empty. “More?”

Lance gave him a small smile. He hadn’t expected a shifter to know what a water fey needed, but was pleasantly flattered. “Yes please.”


	94. Keith/Lance - Beach

“We’re going to go away for a little while,” Lance said, as he folded a button-down and slipped it neatly into his suitcase alongside his other clothes. He was hoping his calm, steady movements were reassuring his Ma, but she was wringing his jacket between her hands, which wasn’t a good sign. “Not for too long. And not too far away.”

“Lance I really don’t…” Her words trailed off as she bit back a sigh. 

“I know,” he said. He could tell what she wanted to say – that she didn’t think this was a good idea, that she didn’t want him to go, that she wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage going away without planning anything first. This was a bit spur of the moment, even he had to admit it. But he had to go.

“Will you at least call me? Everyday?” she asked.

“Of course I will, Ma,” he said. He took his jacket from her and slipped his arms through the sleeves. He zipped his suitcase shut and let it fall to the floor. “I know you don’t want me to go, but it’s for Keith. He needs it.”

She let out a slow breath, and wrapped him in her arms. “Sometimes I think you care too much about that boy,” she admitted.

“No less than he cares about me,” Lance said.

She nodded, then let him go. “Alright. But you promise to call me if anything goes wrong, anything at all. Or call your Pa. Or even your brothers.”

“I will,” he promised. “Bye Ma.”

 

Keith was waiting where Lance had left him – in the front passenger seat of his car. He tossed his suitcase in the backseat next to Keith’s duffel bag and then climbed in behind the wheel. Keith was looking as miserable as before, and now his eyes were red. His cheeks, too. Lance knew that the moment he’d left the car to go inside and pack, Keith had started crying.

“Ready to go?” Lance asked.

Keith just nodded.

And so they went.

 

It wasn’t Keith’s fault, no matter how much he would blame himself, or be angry at himself. Lance almost felt to blame, actually, considering he was the one who encouraged Keith to come out to his foster parents. 

Evidently, it hadn’t gone well.

He and Keith had been friends for years. Well, sort of friends. They hadn’t really liked each other at all at first. Keith was an angry kid who got tossed around from foster house to foster house like a piece of furniture. Lance had been jealous of Keith’s unwanted popularity and insecure about everything that now made him feel confident. 

But those attitudes had changed. Lance learned to love himself, and Keith learned to let himself be loved. Their arguments turned to teasing and their competitiveness was no longer spiteful. They started dating last year, after skirting around their feelings for a month. It was the arrival of their one year anniversary that encouraged Keith to come out to his current foster parents.

“How do you think they’ll react?” Lance had asked him.

“I don’t know,” Keith answered. “But I still want to tell them. They’ll stop pestering me about getting a girlfriend if they know about us, anyway.”

It hadn’t gone well. Keith had been with these foster parents for a few years now, and they’d had to deal with his unruly teenage phase. He’d settled down a bit now that he was older and surer of himself, but his parents were still quite strict, and they weren’t exactly open-minded. 

Lance had known the moment Keith called him that it hadn’t gone well. Keith’s voice hadn’t betrayed anything, but Lance had just known. He’d dated Keith for long enough to sense these things, to hear the words Keith wasn’t saying. He’d gone to pick Keith up immediately, and had found him sitting on the curb outside, scowling into the road.

He couldn’t stay at his house anymore, not for a while, so they were going to go away for a bit. Just a week, maybe. Long enough for his foster parents to cool their heads, and for Keith to remember that he wasn’t the person they were making him out to be. He was worth all the love in the world and Lance would be sure to show him that as much as he needed.

 

“Did you message Shiro?” Lance asked. Shiro was Keith’s mentor, almost like a brother really. He’d been the only stable adult in Keith’s life for a long time.

“Yeah, he said to be careful.”

Lance nodded. They’d been driving for a little while now, and Keith was slowly coming out of the shell he drawn himself into since his argument with his parents. “My aunt said we can stay at her house for now,” he said. “She’s never there anyway – she’s the one who always travels, you remember her?”

“She’s the one who got me a keychain from Bali,” Keith said. “The one with my name on it.”

“Yep, that’s her,” Lance grinned. His aunt always brought back something small for everyone in the family, even though the family was huge. Getting something from her made Keith a part of the family, too. Lance had been more excited about the gift than Keith had.

“Where is she now?”

“Iceland, I think. But she’s told the neighbours I’m coming over for the spare key so it’s fine.”

Keith cracked a small smile. “How far is she from the beach again?”

“Only a two minute walk! We are so going to have romantic walks on the beach, just saying.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Damn right it does.”

Keith reached over to place a gentle hand on Lance’s thigh, squeezing a little. He wasn’t a very touchy-feely sort of guy, so Lance knew the gesture meant a lot. It meant Keith was feeling better, and that he appreciated what Lance was doing. After all, not any old boyfriend would whisk him away for a week of rejuvenation by the beach. 

But Lance wanted to make Keith feel better, and this was the best way he knew how. Keith needed the space to gather his thoughts and figure out his next move. He always thought better when he was away from distractions. 

“Everything will be fine, you know,” Lance said. He wished he could hold Keith’s hand, but he was driving, and had to settle for casting Keith a quick, soft smile.

“I know,” Keith said. He sounded like he believed it. “I have you with me, don’t I?”

Lance smiled again. “That you do. Always.”


	95. Keith/Lance - Cold

A cold werewolf was a dead werewolf, everyone knew that. 

It was one of the many, many reasons vampires and werewolves didn’t get along. They were opposites in every. Where werewolves ran hot, vampires ran cold. Werewolves ate meat, vampires did not. Werewolves thrived in packs, vampires did not. They’d been at opposite ends of the spectrum for hundreds of years and it wasn’t likely that was going to change anytime soon. 

Keith loved Lance anyway. The past clashes of their species would not define their future. 

But something was wrong with his werewolf. Keith had learned a little bit about werewolf illnesses from his time together with Lance and Lance’s pack, but a lot was still a mystery to him. He knew that werewolves didn’t often contract human diseases, but they suffered from similar illnesses, the effects magnified to actually impact a werewolf’s superior immune system.

It was like a human cold, Lance had once told him, when he’d been taking care of his sister. Like a cold but much, much worse. Instead of gaining a fever, a werewolf’s temperature would drop to dangerously low levels. Werewolves tended to hover around forty to forty-two degrees on average, and dropping below thirty-five could prove fatal to them. It was why they liked the heat, liked summer, and why they hated when it snowed.

Keith was pretty sure Lance had caught the cold from his sister. It was just one of those things that happened with people how were vulnerable to illness, especially the contagious kinds. It was nobody’s fault. If Lance’s family pack had been around to take care of him, Keith wouldn’t have been so worried, but they were currently away. Lance was staying with Keith instead, and Keith was woefully unprepared.

He’d woken in the middle of the night to Lance shivering. That in itself was a big red flag, because Lance hardly ever shivered. He was his own furnace, running so hot that Keith often sweltered when they were cuddling together. More often than not, he kicked the sheets off twenty minutes after falling asleep, but that night he had them wrapped tightly around him. It had been clear from the moment Keith glanced over at him that he was sick.

He’d carried Lance to the bathroom and carefully placed him in a boiling hot bath. The heat had been enough to wake Lance, who shivered and whimpered and blinked at Keith with dazed, blurry eyes. 

“’M cold,” he croaked.

“I know, pup,” Keith said. If Lance had been well, he would have protested the nickname (Keith secretly liked it… he thought it was cute, just like Lance). “Do you have any medicine left from when Veronica was sick?”

“C-cupboard.”

Keith fetched the medicine. Werewolves had developed medicines and cures for their illnesses just as humans had, tweaking known recipes and adding new materials to work against their diseases. He found a bottle of tablets in their medicine cabinet, the kind Lance had been giving to Veronica every hour to bring up her temperature. Only a quarter of the bottle was left – not enough to last for Lance.

And he didn’t know where he could get more. The only werewolves he knew were Lance’s family, after all. 

It would have to do. He knew from watching Lance care for Veronica that he needed to keep Lance constantly warm, even if he eventually complained about it being too much. He had to keep Lance hydrated as well, and see if he could try and get him to eat something. It was a daunting task, especially because he knew how stubborn Lance could be.

Keith fished an electric blanket out of their cupboard – only used in the very dead of winter when even Lance felt the chill – and set it up on their bed. He boiled water for tea, and to soak a cloth in that he could rest on Lance’s forehead. He even took the throw blanket off their couch, knowing every layer would be needed.

After drying Lance off and bundling him into fleecy pyjamas and a beanie, Keith put him back in bed, and made him drink tea. The electric blanket made Lance sigh and pull all the sheets to himself, trapping in the warmth. Keith went around the room shutting their curtains to fend off the cold night air radiating off the windows, and ducked downstairs to turn the house’s heater on, too.

“Drink it all,” Keith said, when he noticed Lance nodding off. 

Lance sipped at his tea until the mug was empty. Keith took it away and waited until Lance was lying down again before putting the hot cloth on his forehead. 

“Take this, too,” Keith said, pressing one of the little tablets to Lance’s lips. The sickly werewolf complied, though he groaned weakly, almost too tired to swallow. “I’m going to wake you up every hour for another one until the bottle is finished, okay?”

Lance hummed. “Cold,” he whispered.

“I know,” Keith said. He adjusted the blankets around Lance, tucking him in tight. “Try and get some rest.”

One perk of being a vampire meant that Keith technically didn’t need sleep. He could sleep, and did so he wasn’t spending hours by himself while Lance rested, but it meant he could stay awake to monitor Lance without tiring.

The night passed uneasily. It took several hours for Lance to stop whimpering in his sleep, and several more for him to stop shivering. Keith took that as a good sign. He replaced the cloth over Lance’s forehead every time steam stopped curling off of it, and even though he was uncomfortably warm, he kept the temperature in their house nice and high.

There were only seven tablets left in the bottle, and after that, Lance had to get through the cold unaided. Fortunately, the seven seemed to help Lance a lot – he wasn’t as sick as Veronica had been, and by the time the last tablet was gone, his temperature was stabilising. That was good. Keith encouraged him to drink water every time he woke him up, and even got him to eat a little.

He wasn’t the one who was sick, but he felt like he was. Even a vampire like him could see the value of having a pack in a situation like this. They cared for each other in ways no one else could. In ways humans and vampires couldn’t. 

Eventually, a warm flush came to Lance’s cheeks. That was a good sign – it meant his temperature was slowly rising. Keith let himself get close after that, knowing his cold skin wouldn’t harm Lance anymore. He still remained on top of the covers, not daring to break the pocket of warmth Lance had under there, but he did put an arm around Lance, and let Lance stuff his face into the crook of Keith’s neck. He could feel heat coming back to Lance’s skin where they were pressed together.

“Warmer now?” Keith asked, when he sensed Lance beginning to stir. 

“Yeah,” Lance mumbled around a yawn. He nuzzled his nose under Keith’s chin, shifting around to make himself comfortable. “Go a nasty headache, though.”

“I’ll get you something for it later,” Keith murmured. He really just wanted to hold Lance in his arms for a while.

“You’re the best, babe,” Lance said, his voice going slurry with sleepiness. 

“Yeah, yeah, just go back to sleep, pup.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Keith smiled, hiding the gesture in Lance’s hair. Now he knew Lance was feeling better, at least. He could feel relief drain out of his shoulders as if he were a balloon draining of air. 

So what if vampires and werewolves weren’t meant to get along? Lance was his world. His entire world. It was as simple as that.


	96. Keith/Lance/Shiro - Star-Shaped

One evening, Shiro’s thoughts strayed to his family. It wasn’t so unusual for him to spend his quiet time thinking about them. They were his entire world, after all. 

By that time of night, everyone else was asleep. Lance had retired first – the omega was pregnant with their second child, far enough along now that his stomach was decently rounded, and his energy usually more empty than full. Keith had followed not long afterwards. He was stuck in a rut of instincts that made him anxious when Lance was out of his sight, like he had been when Lance was pregnant with their first child. It wasn’t harmful, and he’d drift out of it eventually, so Shiro was content to let the younger alpha follow around their omega like a lost pup for the time being.

Their first born, Edelira, should have been asleep. She was almost two years old now, and seemed like she had endless energy. She always wanted to play with Lance, which could be troublesome when Lance was exhausted, especially because he could never say no to her big, pleading eyes.

Shiro wasn’t all too surprised when he heard footsteps on the carpeted floor upstairs. He was tuned in to every little sound she made, and sighed as she started to scoot down the stairs. She knew she wasn’t allowed to walk down them by herself yet, but that didn’t stop her from sliding down on her bottom.

“Papa?”

“In here, baby,” he called.

She toddled into the lounge room a moment later, clutching her favourite stuffed lion toy to her chest. “Can’t sleep,” she said.

He beckoned her over, and gave her a hand as she clambered up onto the couch, straight into his lap. Even at her age, she felt so small to him, dainty enough that he could lift her with one arm and carry her for hours without strain. He knew she was stronger than she looked, but he wanted to coddle her, to keep her tucked up in his arms forever.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked her, as she slumped against his chest, yawning.

“Want to sleep with Mama,” she mumbled.

Shiro ran a sympathetic hand down her back. He wasn’t surprised by how attached she was to Lance – it was natural for her to feel that way. “Mama’s really tired at the moment,” he said gently. “He’s sleeping with Papa.”

“And the baby,” she reminded him. 

That was something that had surprised him – her protectiveness of her new sibling. He had been worried she might feel left out; they’d all been worried, him and Lance and Keith. But Edelira seemed excited for the baby to arrive, and didn’t begrudge Lance for being tired and sick because of his pregnancy. 

“And the baby,” he agreed. “How about I tuck you in again, huh? Will that help?”

“Yeah.”

Letting out an exaggerated groan, Shiro stood, and carried his daughter back up the stairs. He was careful to be quiet when he passed the master bedroom, hearing Lance’s little snores and Keith’s quiet grunts as he shifted around to get comfortable. They were deeply familiar sounds to him, and set his alpha instincts at ease. The wellbeing of his mates and his children were his top priorities, and always would be.

Edelira’s room was just down the hallway. He set her down on her bed and pulled back her blankets, making sure to tuck her in comfortably. She rubbed her cheek against her pillows as she curled up with her lion toy, blinking up at him sleepily. He switched her nightlight back on, one that projected little star-shaped light spots along her ceiling, and sat on the edge of the bed so that he could run his fingers through her soft, silky hair.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, yawning again. “Night, Daddy.”

“Goodnight,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead. He waited until she’d drifted off before standing, heading back down the hall to check on his mates.

They were exactly as he’d left them. Lance was sprawled out in the middle of their large bed, the sheets tangled around his belly and knees, showing off the curves of his body. Keith was as close as he could get without being in range of Lance’s sharp elbows, one hand reached out to rest over Lance’s. He was quite clingy when he was asleep, even if he’d deny it. He always had a hand on one of them, if not both, or a leg thrown over theirs. Sometimes he’d growl in his sleep if he sensed one of them getting out of bed.

Shiro leaned against the doorway, simply watching for a moment. Neither one of his mates woke up, but Keith’s nose twitched when he smelt Shiro’s scent. He let out a small noise in his sleep, one that Shiro returned with a rumble. It was a thing bonded alphas did, something that reassured them that they were safe, even when resting.

That was something Shiro often thought about when it was quiet, too – the little things his family did. Sometimes when Keith was getting too rowdy, or getting on Lance’s nerves without realising, Shiro would nip his neck, and Keith would instantly calm down. When Lance sensed that someone was in a bad mood, he’d nuzzle their cheek, covering them in his sweet omega scent to lift their mood. 

Even Edelira did it. If she thought Lance was unwell, or if one of her fathers was being noticeably quiet, she’d ply them with games and her innocent giggles and bright smiles. There was nothing that made any one of them happier than seeing her content.

With his mates peacefully asleep, Shiro half-shut the bedroom door, and wandered back downstairs. It wasn’t all that late, so he could stay up for a little while longer. This was really the only time of day when the house was quiet, when he got time to himself to think and relax without distractions. He wanted to stay awake until he was sure Edelira was fast asleep, too. 

He settled back down on the couch, and reached for a book he’d left on the coffee table, one Lance had given to him for his birthday the previous year. He was still trying to finish it; fatherhood could be quite demanding. He wouldn’t have changed anything for the world, though.

Like usual, his thoughts strayed back to his family. The three of them had a new pup on the way, and a perfect daughter lighting up their worlds. He’d never been happier.


	97. Keith/Lance - Fairy

Keith did not expect a fairy to wind up in his front yard.

They were rare creatures, and hardly ever seen, unless they wanted to be. Often mischievous, and quite powerful, they usually lived deep in magic forests, close to springs and ponds where the water was the clearest. Their magic was one of the strongest kinds. Fairies could make all sorts of illusions, and manipulate the elements as easily as breathing, once they’d had the proper training and education. They even had the power to change their form, switching from ten-centimetres tall to normal human-sized. 

The one in his garden was small, though. He wasn’t sure he would have noticed it if he hadn’t seen its glowing wings reflecting light in his garden. It was slumped against one of the ferns growing on the garden’s boarder. It had been night when it showed up, and at first it had looked like a large firefly, but the glow was blue, and not yellow. Keith had been looking out of the window when it showed up, so its faint blue glow caught his attention almost immediately. 

It was tiny. He scooped it off the fern leaf with both hands, cradling the poor thing as gently as he could as he took it inside, where it was warmer and quieter. It hardly weighed anything, and felt like it could blow away with a slight breeze. Like a dandelion, he thought. There were cuts and scrapes on its clothes, and it looked exhausted, its face pale and drawn, eyebrows scrunched. Keith wasn’t really sure what to do with a fairy, and his house wasn’t really suited to taking care of one.

But he wanted to help it. Shiro had always taught him to help others if he could, and if nothing else, he was sure he could at least offer the fairy someplace quiet to rest. Something must have been wrong if it had strayed so far away from wherever its home was, after all.

Inside, he rested the little fairy on a soft couch cushion, careful not to crush its pale blue wings. He covered its legs with a light blanket, hoping it wasn’t too heavy to crawl out of. He didn’t have anything small enough for a fairy to drink out of, but he left a glass of water on the coffee table anyway. It didn’t seem like the fairy was in danger of dying, just exhausted, so he let it rest.

He thought it was strange that a fairy would wind up in his garden. He lived away from most other people, including the magic kind, and rarely saw anything more interesting than a deer passing silently through the trees. He hadn’t even know there were flocks of fairies in the area, since he’d never seen them when he walked down to the lake not too far from here. But they could have lived elsewhere, he supposed. It wasn’t like he’d ever gone looking for them.

He didn’t go looking for anything, these days.

Living in this house so far away from everyone was intentional. He needed the time to rest, according to Shiro. He had to admit, it was nice being in the quiet. There was nothing to distract him, nothing that demanded his attention. Nothing to strain himself with. It could sometimes be boring, but he figured out ways to entertain himself – reading, gardening cooking, hiking, meditating. He quickly grew used to the silence.

The fairy was interesting, though. He stood by the window across from the couch, alternating between watching the fairy and the garden, wondering if someone was going to come looking for it. The moon was already high in the sky, so he doubted anyone would have been able to follow the fairy if he was trying to get away. Only the glow of his wings would have marked him out against the blackness of the forest. He left no footprints, after all, and was too small to snap branches or crumble leaves for tracking.

Not long passed before the fairy stirred. It lifted its head, revealing its face and its bright blue eyes. It spotted the glass of water, squirmed out from underneath the blanket, and fluttered over to the coffee table, its wings making a soft humming sound as it moved. It landed ever so delicately on the edge of the glass, light enough not to tip it over, and reached down to cup its hands in the water.

That was one way to get at it, Keith supposed.

“Feeling better?” he asked, after the fairy had taken a long drink.

It startled at his voices, its wings briefly going stiff. “Yes,” he said, voice clear and distinct, as if he were another full sized person sitting across the room, if only a little quiet. “Did you… save me?”

“I brought you inside and let you rest,” Keith said. “You didn’t seem too hurt.”

The fairy pursed its lips. “Does anyone know I’m here?”

“No.” Keith shook his head. “This house is quite isolated. I didn’t expect to see anyone else around.”

The fairy hummed, giving Keith a considerate head tilt. “Like… isolated in the sense that no one really comes around?”

“No one but the deer. Why?”

“Can I stay?” the fairy asked. “Just for a bit! I just… there were…”

Keith didn’t need an explanation. He got the idea and could fill in the blanks himself. Everyone knew that poachers and hunters would do anything to get their hands on magic folk, fairies included. “You can stay if you want,” he said.

“Really?” the fairy exclaimed. In a flash of blue light it transformed into a normal size person – a guy who looked Keith’s age actually, his eyes just as brilliantly blue as before. In two seconds flat he was across the room, flinging himself at Keith, his wings brimming with excitement. “Thank you…!”

Keith wasn’t sure what to do. He flushed, and awkwardly pat the fairy’s back, flustered by the press of his chest against Keith’s. He wasn’t blind – he knew the fairy was attractive. His features were easy to admire when he was normal sized, and he was warm against Keith, his embrace inviting. Keith didn’t usually fall for a pretty face so quickly, but…

“I’m Lance, by the way,” the fairy said, grinning, as he put his hands on Keith’s shoulders to face him properly. 

“Keith,” he said. 

He had a feeling this fairy was going to cause him more trouble than he first expected. But he also had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind all too much.


	98. Keith/Lance - Pool

Keith was sprawled out on the back porch, one cheek pressed to the warm wood beneath him. He blinked out at the backyard, where Lance was busy inflating one of those inflatable backyard pools underneath the tree in the corner, the only spot of shade in the yard.

“This is my best idea yet!” Lance called out to him.

Keith grunted, and lazily lifted a hand by way of reply. It was so hot he felt like he was melting against the porch, his sweaty skin sticking to the wood wherever his clothes had ridden up. They’d had a string of hot days all week, the kind of humid heat that was pressing and constant. Even the breeze was hot and Keith hated it. He had no idea where his boyfriend got all his energy from when the heat was draining Keith like a leech. 

He almost felt half-asleep as he watched Lance drag the hose over to the pool once it was inflated. It would probably take hours to fill, and by then it would be the hottest part of the day. Keith was very disgruntled about the fact that it was already this hot mid-morning. He’d grown up in a really dry area, but since moving to the city, he’d become accustomed to more pleasant temperatures. He was really paying for it now.

With the garden hose balanced in the pool and the rush of water steadily rustling against the plastic, Lance finally wandered back over to the porch. He flopped down beside Keith and stretched out, resting back on his palms. He looked completely in his element, as if the sun wasn’t try to burn everything to a crisp before lunchtime.

But Lance’s love of warm weather made sense, Keith supposed. Lance generally preferred summer to winter; he was Cuban, so it was natural that he liked the hot weather. Almost his entire family shared the same opinion. Not to mention that hot weather meant it was the perfect time to go to the beach, which was Lance’s favourite place to be. He loved the sea more than anything, even more so when it was warm enough for him to swim in.

“This pool is totally going to cool us right down,” Lance declared, a hint of smug pride in his voice. “When it fills up, anyway. Don’t you think, Keith?”

Keith was tempted to get up and move to the kitchen tiles, which would no doubt be much cooler than the wooden porch. But he stayed put because he wanted to be near Lance, even if it was boiling outside. “If you say so,” he mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

Lance laughed quietly. “You look like you’ve melted into a puddle. Am I going to have to mop you up off the floor?”

“Quite possibly.”

“You poor thing,” Lance teased, grinning. He bent over to press a swift kiss to the top of Keith’s head before straightening. “Don’t you worry, this pool is going to be great!”


	99. Keith/Lance - Immortal

The headlines were nothing but a loop of slander glorifying hunters. Beheadings, stakes through the heart and burnings from blessed bullets was all the public was interested in. The mortal public, anyway – the majority. They feared immortals of all kinds so much that they celebrated every death like it was a holiday.

Once, when Lance was younger and still naïve to the ways of the mortal world, there was a massacre. Contrary to popular belief among mortals, vampires weren’t always made, but born. In fact, the vast majority of vampires were born into vampire families, like Lance was. They had no recollection of being human because they never were. To hunt them was to hunt the innocent.

But the humans hunted them anyway.

A family a few states away had their photos splashed across the news for weeks. A mother, a father, three of their biological children – under twelve – and two of the children’s cousins, of the same age, had been murdered in their home. Hunters had certified that they were vampires, and suddenly the innocence of the family no longer matter. 

It didn’t matter that the father was a respected, small-business owner in the area, or that he coached his son’s soccer team every Friday. It didn’t matter that the mother volunteered at the local women’s shelter at least twice a month, baking food even though she didn’t eat it and offering all the help she could. It didn’t matter that half the kids were too young to tie their own shoe laces, or that the other half were more interested in horses and video games than in species politics or violence. 

They were innocent.

Now they were dead.

And there were no legal repercussions for any of the humans involved. It wasn’t as if the public didn’t know who had done it, either. No, they were happy to declare exactly what they’d done. Exactly how they’d murdered five children and two adults. They broadcasted it like they’d won the lottery, and half the humans they knew loudly applauded them for it. All they got was a warning from law enforcement to keep it down, lest they cause a public disturbance.

It was dangerous to be immortal in a world of violent mortals.

After the slaughter of the family, Lance’s mother became much more protective of her children. Half were vampire and half were human – getting their vampire traits from her, their human traits from their father. Lance was one of the more vampiric children; he consumed blood, and had senses far more advanced than a human’s. His sisters – Veronica and Rachel, both older than him – were the same. Their older brothers, Luis and Marco, were humans, but they were just as protective of their siblings as their mother was.

These days, most immortal creatures ran in their own circles, keeping their identity strictly hidden. Both of Lance’s grandparents on his mother’s side were vampires, so they had connection to a few of the older families. Much of the blood they drank was willingly and anonymously donated by humans, and distributed to vampire families after being carefully screened and tested. Years before Lance had been born, there’d been an epidemic of poisoned and tainted blood, the kind that would sicken and even kill vampires within hours. Since then, everything was carefully screened and tested for poisons or irregularities, even if it came from trustworthy human sources. 

Better to be safe than sorry.

When Lance was little, they used to live in a big, crowded city. He couldn’t really remember which, but he remembered they had a nice house for the area, and were living in a fairly nice neighbourhood. No major crimes happened around there, or anything. None he could remember anyway. But something had eventually gone wrong in the city, as it always did – a string of violent immortal deaths a little too close to home, probably – and his mother had moved them all out to a more rural town. They had a nice house here too, one big enough for all of them to have their own rooms, with the exception of Veronica and Rachel, who shared a larger one together.

He’d grown up in that small town, and liked it. There was a decently sized immortal community, and the humans around were generally immortal-friendly, not that they knew about the ones living around them. But they weren’t the type to go witch hunting, and they didn’t hang crosses on their front door, or keep silver bullets loaded into a gun on a holster they refused to ever take off. They didn’t go looking for immortals. A lot of humans were decent like that… but a lot weren’t.

In the end, it was really the professional hunters an immortal had to be on the lookout for. They were the type of human – always human, always mortal – who were trained to kill immortals the same way some people trained to play sport. It was a challenge, a game, something with a clear end in mind: murder. Murder in the eyes of immortals, but victory in the eyes of men. Professional hunters could slaughter an innocent family without blinking an eye. They could take on ancient vampires, the strongest kinds, and win with nothing but a bloodied stake.

They were dangerous, and almost impossible to spot. They looked like normal humans, after all. Soft, vulnerable, mortal. 

Any hint, any small whisper or rumour, any sign of a hunter – it would have sent immortals fleeing. If Lance’s mother knew there was one nearby, he had no doubt she’d pack them all up and move them out within the day. They killed without remorse.

Lance never expected to come across them. As grey as the law was when it came to immortal killings, no one could outright support commonplace assassins. Professional hunters were always trained underground, and hid themselves in plain sight with normal jobs and lives. A family, kids, pets – they were like normal humans. Deceptively so. 

But they could kill beings that never died.

The hunter that found him was his age. That was what had tricked Lance, at first – a young, handsome face. The boy had distant eyes and dark hair that obscured his expression, but he was ruthlessly handsome in the way that not many people could naturally be. But this boy was natural. Lance could smell it on him. He had blood that called to Lance in a way that none other did.

His name was Keith. They met at a café, when Lance spilled his coffee down Keith’s leather jacket. He couldn’t drink the coffee, of course – he could only consume blood safely, without getting sick. But he had to keep up appearances, and even if he didn’t drink it, people saw a young, yawning guy with a coffee cup and just assumed human.

Keith hadn’t been pleased to be covered in coffee, obviously. His jacket had protected him from the worst of the heat, but his displeasure had been tangible, something Lance could taste in the air. It was Keith’s scent that had distracted him, that had made him careless enough to stumble, to fumble with his drink. 

At first, Lance didn’t think Keith knew he was a vampire. How could he? It wasn’t like vampires looked any different to humans. It wasn’t like movies, or old novels. He wasn’t even close to pale with his dark Cuban skin, he didn’t burn in the sun, he didn’t sparkle or go up in flames. His mother had strictly taught him how to control the descent of his fangs so only blunt human teeth showed until he fed. He looked normal, acted normal.

Vampires were only different in their diets and senses, anyways. He still didn’t know why humans had turned them into monsters because of that.

But Keith hadn’t known about him, then. And Lance hadn’t known about Keith either. If he’d known Keith was a hunter… he would have had to run. Being around Keith put him in danger, and no matter how delightful his blood smelt, it wasn’t something Lance could ever have. He knew there were age-old tales about finding one’s true love based on their scent, but it was all fiction. Keith just smelt appetizing.

They dated for a little while. Lance bought Keith’s drink at the coffee shop to make up for staining his clothes, and joined him while he drank it. That day Keith had been so distracted by the spreading stain that he hadn’t noticed Lance not ordering another drink.

The two of them were quite similar. Both competitive, both envious, driven by a need to gain approval, to feel like they’d come out on top. Lance knew that his competitiveness came from being one of five siblings, and from jealously, or perhaps envy. He looked at other people who had what he wanted and felt an urge to become better than them. He hadn’t known about Keith’s competitiveness back then, or where it had come from. It was a strange thing to have in common with someone.

But they did have it in common, and it made them friendlier to one another. They’d race one another to the end of the street, or see who could play arcade games better, or something like that. Something stupid but fun. The winner would always have bragging rights and the loser would always pout and that was just how it was. As stoic and expressionless as Keith seemed, he was just like any other boy their age: desperate for company, for approval, but too socially awkward to pursue it himself. 

It was weird to think now, but they seemed to fill each other’s emptiness. Keith was quiet, so Lance was loud and talkative enough for the both of them. Lance didn’t know how to stand up for himself, so Keith did it enough for the both of them. It was like that for a lot of things. They filled one another’s gaps until it was like they were one whole piece, but still individual. It was… good. Really good.

Until it wasn’t.

Lance didn’t really know what had started it. There were a lot of little things, probably. Things Keith was trained to see. Like the fact that Lance never ate around him, for one. Or that he never finished his coffee, even if he pretended to take sips. Or the way he flinched whenever he heard something clunk against wood, like a café door bumping the doorframe; too much like the sound of a wooden stake. 

(He didn’t know why humans insisted it was wooden stakes that killed vampires. Wouldn’t anyone die if something sharp and pointy was thrust through their chest?)

It was probably Lance’s fault that Keith found out. He’d been so preoccupied with Keith, so infatuated and excited to find someone who felt like they were everything he was missing, that he’d neglected a few feeds. Vampires didn’t need to eat as frequently as humans did, and could comfortably go a week without eating, though they ate every few days normally. But he’d missed a few, and hunger had been beginning to gnaw at his stomach like a starved animal. It made him careless.

It wasn’t like Keith found him feeding or anything. No, it happened worse than that. Lance felt like it was worse, anyway.

Keith had just asked him.

“Are you a vampire?”

It happened when they were on a date. They were on the beach, Lance’s favourite place to be in the entire world. A fleecy picnic blanket sat between them and the sand. Lance had his legs crossed, his face turned towards the sea. The salty breeze coming off the waves made him feel like a flower was gently unfolding between his ribs. 

One that had quickly wilted at Keith’s words.

What was he meant to say to that? He could have lied, but he didn’t want to lie to Keith. It would be easy to catch him out in the lie, anyway. Give him food, and he’d either reject it, or eat it and be sick. 

He couldn’t lie. So he’d looked at Keith and said, “Yes.”

He probably shouldn’t have. That was one of the rules his mother always told him, every single day, even if she never said the words. Her worried stares, the way she cradled his face with that faraway look in her eye, the way she’d triple-check every window as locked, every door was shut – those actions said the things she never let her words say to her children. That she wanted them to be safe, that there was danger in the world. That she loved them. That no mortal could ever find out about them.

But Lance told Keith. He’d wondered if he’d regret the words once they’d left his mouth, but he just felt empty afterwards. Empty because he’d spilled his biggest secret and it had flown out of him like a flock of birds. And empty because the moment he said it, Keith stared at him – just stared, face and eyes blank, and said, “I’m a hunter,” before he’d gotten up and left.

He hadn’t looked back, even though Lance watched him, desperately wishing he would.

He’d wondered if he would die if he’d walked out into the sea. If the waves had crashed over the top of his head, if the tide had carried him far out beyond the reach of mortals. He was immortal. Did he need to breathe? Could he breathe, when his heart had just walked away?

Keith knew where he lived. Had met a few of his siblings, once or twice. They’d been dating for a while. Keith knew everything about him – literally everything, now. He knew how Lance liked to collect seashells. He knew how Lance liked to take baths when he was stressed. He knew that Lance had never been able to reel in a fish, even with the dozens of trips his father had taken him on. He knew that Lance was afraid of loneliness.

And now he knew Lance was a vampire.

Lance almost didn’t want to go home. What if he got there, and his entire family were dead? Slaughtered, just like that family of seven from years ago? Their blood spilled across the floors he’d run around on as a child, along the walls where his height had been measured and marked in pencil every year?

He’d stayed on that beach, unmoving. The tide had crept in, inch by inch, as the moon lifted itself into the sky, drifting along as aimlessly as a white balloon. 

But then Keith had come back.

Lance had smelt him before he’d seen or heard him, as was usually the case. His blood still called like a siren, tempting Lance to taste. Keith had sat back down beside him, wearing the same clothes as before, no sign of a stake or a gun or a knife. He hadn’t looked at Lance, but at the creeping tide, following Lance’s gaze to watch it sweep in and out.

“Have you killed anyone?” Keith asked him.

“Never,” Lance said. His voice betrayed everything he didn’t want it to: that he’d been crying, that he was hurt, that he was scared. His words were barely above a croaked whisper, and yet he’d still managed to ask, “Have you?”

Keith had startled at the question, as if it honestly surprised him.

“Only vampires?” Lance spat.

“Never,” Keith said, a troubled dip furrowing his brow. “No one. Never.”

Lance wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not. Keith was young – too young to kill? It was hard to tell. “Are you going to?” Going to kill him, he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“No,” Keith whispered.

“My family?”

“No.” Stronger this time. He knew how much Lance’s family meant to him, how close they were. Lance would sooner die than let them come to harm.

“How can a hunter be called a hunter if they don’t hunt?”

“Then they’re not a hunter,” Keith said, eyes downcast, but no less troubled. “How can I kill you when you feel more human to me than anyone else on this planet?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said, “but hunters do it all the time. Children, families. Innocent people.”

“I know,” Keith murmured.

“Then why do you do it?”

“It was just how I thought things were,” he said. “My foster family – they’re hunters. They never taught me there was another way.”

“Another way of what?”

“Living.” Keith looked at Lance then. “Our differences – they’re not so big.”

It was something Lance had always thought. 

“You drink blood, you have better senses – but what else? What else makes you not human? The fact that you live forever?”

“That’s all there is. There is no other difference,” Lance said. 

“I know,” Keith said. “I… I don’t want to hunt. I thought I did. But how can I kill the boy I love when I know he’s more human than I am?”

Lance was perhaps the first vampire to fall for a hunter. Keith was perhaps the first hunter who chose not to kill. It almost felt like they were stuck in a fever, too connected to do one another harm. Maybe that was what love truly was.

By the time the tide came in, they were gone, secrets laid bare.

But still secret.


	100. Lance/Shiro - Hybrid

Shiro had only rarely seen hybrids in person. They had the ability to shift into animals, and often retained animal features while human. Their secondary gender dynamics tended to be more intense too, as did their instincts. Despite that, they were like any other person, but lots of people treated them poorly, thinking they were too animalistic. Often hybrids were stolen and sold almost like pets, and as much as law enforcement tried to stop that, there were always some that slipped through the cracks.

Working at the hospital meant that Shiro witnessed a lot of the worse side of humanity. He’d treated omegas that had come in with wounds from alpha attacks, or people injured after being hit by drunk drivers, or victims of muggings. Of course, he saw less violent injuries – kids that had fallen off the monkey bars at parks and broken their wrists, or clumsy cooks who had accidentally sliced themselves with knives, or an elderly person who’d fallen over and hurt their hip.

But it was the worst ones that perked up his protective, alpha instincts.

He was one of the only alphas who worked at the hospital. It wasn’t like alphas couldn’t be doctors – a lot were, actually – but it was more common for omegas and betas to have caretaker roles. A lot of the time, an alpha’s scent could inadvertently trigger feelings of intimidation in someone who had recently been traumatised, even if the alpha was projecting a calming scent.

Shiro was quite lucky in the sense that his scent was usually quite calming, even for frightened patients. His protective scent usually appealed well to his patients, and he was tall enough and strong enough to hold down patients that were trying to hurt themselves in their fear. 

When it really came down to it, he liked his job. Loved it, actually. After his accident, he’d been taken care of really well by hospital staff. They’d nursed him back to health and taught him to live with his prosthetic and kept him from spiralling into grief over his missing arm. He couldn’t pilot anymore after that, not with his injury, but the treatment he received at the hospital inspired him to become a doctor.

He wanted to give back. Simply thanking the people who saved his life didn’t feel like it was enough.

So he went and became a doctor. It took a lot of study, but thankfully his medical training from his time when he was a cadet helped speed along the process. He interned, became a nurse, and worked his way up through the ranks at the hospital. Now he was helping people in the same way he was helped.

Work brought him into contact with a lot of different people. He saw dozens of patients a day, but even so, it was a rare occurrence that a hybrid came into his care. That was why he was so surprised when one arrived.

The hybrid was an omega – his frightened scent had completely flooded the ward hallway as Shiro rushed to his room. He’d been paged while on his evening break that there was an emergency they needed him specifically for. Apparently the omega wasn’t responding well to other omega scents, so the ward’s doctors wanted him to see if his scent produced a better reaction from the omega. 

The scent that reached him almost knocked Shiro off his feet. Omegas had a sort of defence mechanism in their scent; when they were distraught, it either became completely repulsive, or it kicked an alpha’s protective instincts into overdrive. The latter was stirring in Shiro, making him feel tense all over. He took a moment to breathe in deeply, letting the stiffness bleed out of his shoulders. If he appeared calm and confident, his scent would project a feeling of safety.

One of the attending nurses approached him as he arrived at the omega’s room, her brow furrowed with worry. “The police found him and a handful of other omegas in a trafficking ring,” she explained. “He’s a little beaten up, but we can’t get close enough to him to do an assessment, and he won’t speak. He’s really frightened.”

“Anyone would be,” Shiro said, wincing. “And the others?”

“They’re about the same as him, but he’s the only hybrid,” she told him. “The police have already figured out that they’ve only been missing for a few days at most, so we don’t think anything physical happened. They’ve identified a few, but not him.”

“Alright.” Shiro glanced over the information the nurse handed him – it was what the police had discerned. The omegas had only been missing for a few days but they’d been transported an unknown distance away from their homes, so identifying them was difficult. They’d been snatched right off the street.

Shiro knocked on the room door before opening it. The blinds had been drawn shut, and the lights had been dimmed. He looked on the bed but didn’t see the hybrid. “Hello,” he said, voice quiet. “My name is Takashi Shirogane, and I’m a doctor.”

There was a frightened whimper in reply. Shiro edged around the empty bed and saw the omega curled up on the floor, half beneath it. His ears were flattened back against his skull, his tail tucked tightly between his legs. There were dark bruises on his wrists and ankles. 

“Hey there,” Shiro said, as he crouched at the end of the bed. 

The omega curled tighter into a ball, but he did lift his head a little, nose twitching. When he didn’t react badly to Shiro’s scent, Shiro inched closer, and offered a hand.

“Come on, let’s get you off the floor,” he said, smiling a little smile. 

The omega hesitated, clearly afraid. Shiro wondered if his captors had been alphas, but he didn’t seem afraid of Shiro, so maybe Shiro’s scent wasn’t threatening. Although it took him a moment, he eventually reached for Shiro’s hand, and allowed himself to be guided back to the bed. 

“Perfect.” Shiro pulled the guest chair closer and sat down on it, making sure he was eye level. “How are you feeling?”

His ears swivelled, but ultimately stayed pressed flat. 

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “How about this. I’ll ask a question, and you can squeeze my hand if the answer is yes. Does that work?” He offered his hand again.

The omega grasped his fingers lightly. There was no hesitation this time.

“Good,” Shiro praised. “Now, how are you feeling? Scared?”

A light squeeze.

“I understand,” Shiro said. “That’s completely natural. I want you to know you’re safe now. No one here at the hospital will let anything happen to you, alright?”

Another light squeeze.

“Are you hurt?” Shiro asked. When the omega squeezed his fingers, he then asked, “Is it your wrists and ankles? Nothing else?”

At the next squeeze, he couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh. Bruises he could handle. Anything worse and things would become much more complicated. 

“Now, I need to examine you for injuries. It might feel a little invasive, but it’s not going to hurt, and all you need to do is squeeze my hand or tap my arm and I’ll give you some space. Is that alright?”

The omega confirmed, so Shiro started the exam. He took note of the bruises and felt along the omegas wrist and ankle bones, checking for sprains or lacerations in his skin. He listened to the omega’s heartbeat, checked his pulse, and how well his pupils responded to light. Apart from being shaken and dehydrated, he seemed mostly unscathed. Bruises and cuts could heal.

“Can I check your ears and tail too?” he asked. 

There was a long, hesitant moment that stretched between them before he was allowed to do so. He was painstakingly careful as he looked inside the omega’s ears and felt along each bone in the omega’s tail. One joint produced a hiss, so Shiro marked it down as a sprain. 

When his exam was done, he fetched the tray of supplies brought in by a nurse before he arrived, and set to treating the wounds. He rubbed bruise cream into each dark mark, and disinfected each cut he found. Everything was dressed in bandages to keep the wounds clean. 

“The police are having trouble identifying you,” Shiro said as he worked. “Can you tell me your name? Or where you’re from?”

“Lance,” the omega croaked, his voice raspy. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Lance,” Shiro said, smiling again. “Even if I wish the circumstances were better. I’m glad you’re feeling better now.” He could smell that Lance’s scent had calmed down, that he wasn’t as distressed as before. His ears weren’t as flat against his skull now, either.

After clearing away his supplies, Shiro stood and hooked Lance’s clipboard of information over the end of the bed. 

“I’m going to go see what we can do about finding your family,” Shiro said. He’d barely stepped two feet towards the door before Lance let out a frightened whimper, his big blue eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t leave,” he croaked.

Worry gripped at Shiro’s heart. Lance’s distressed scent filled the room again, appearing thick and fast in the air. He rushed back to the bed, unintentionally letting out a soothing rumble from deep within his chest. He’d treated dozens of frightened omegas before, but none had ever prompted such a response from him. Not even other hybrids he’d taken care of. Something about Lance’s wobbly voice and his pleading expression seemed to flip Shiro’s instincts head over heels.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re alright.”

Lance clenched one hand in Shiro’s coat, breathing hard. His ears were completely flattened again. “I– I’m–”

“It’s okay,” Shiro repeated. He put a hesitant hand on Lance’s back, who immediately leaned into the gesture, resting his cheek against Shiro’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’m here to make you feel better.”

“Don’t leave,” Lance whispered again.

“I won’t.” Shiro glanced over his shoulder towards the windows that led out into the hallway, and gestured at the nurse waiting outside. “I’m going to stay with you while we get you hooked up to an IV, alright? You’re dehydrated, so we’re going to give you some fluids, and let you rest while we find your family.”

The nurse edged into the room, and when Lance didn’t cower at her presence, she came over to attend to him. Lance didn’t move as he was set up for fluids, didn’t even flinch as the needle sunk beneath his skin. He remained still and patient as everything happened around him. 

“His name is Lance,” Shiro told the nurse. “Can you get that back to the police? His family is probably looking for him.”

“I will,” the nurse said, nodding, as a determined look came into her eyes. Shiro had worked with her for years and knew she could do literally anything once she’d put her mind to it. He trusted her to do as he asked just as well, if not better, than he’d do it himself.

“Thank you.”

When she left, Shiro encouraged Lance to lie down, and opened one of the windows for him to let in some fresh air. It was late evening now, and the sun was dipping behind the skyline.

“Don’t you have other patients?” 

Shiro was surprised by the question. He could hear the worry in Lance’s voice, and as he checked his watch, he could smell it on Lance’s scent, too. “If you need my attention, then you’ll be my priority,” Shiro said. Truthfully, he was now meant to be off duty, but he wasn’t going to tell Lance that. He’d worked overtime to stay with patients before, and he knew that Lance needed his support now. Staying back to care for him was something he was willing to do. “If you would like me to stay, I can.”

“Stay,” Lance whispered, his eyes downcast.

“Of course,” Shiro assured. He returned to Lance’s bedside and held out his hand, smiling when Lance immediately grabbed for it.

“Your scent is different,” Lance confessed. “I’ve never smelt anything like it.”

“Well, I hope that’s a good thing,” Shiro chuckled.

Lance crackled a small smile. 

“If it helps, I think you smell quite different too,” Shiro admitted, teasing just a little. “In a good way.” It was the truth. Now that Lance’s scent was settling, Shiro’s protective instincts were easing, and he was starting to smell Lance’s natural scent, the one beneath the distress.

“The other omegas…” Lance trailed off.

“They’re alright,” Shiro said. “They’re being treated here, too.”

“They really don’t need your attention?”

Shiro laughed quietly again, and patted Lance’s hand. “No, it’s alright,” Shiro said. “I wouldn’t tell you it was, if it wasn’t true.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“Of course it is,” Shiro declared. “I’m a doctor, after all.”

That got a little giggle out of Lance. His ears were relaxed now, and he was slowly sinking back into his pillows. “Have you treated hybrids before?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “I meet a lot of different people working here.”

Lance’s eyes flickered down to Shiro’s arm.

“I lost it in a piloting accident,” he explained, before Lance could ask. He’d long since become confident about it, no longer needing to hide it. “I was a pilot before I was a doctor. But when I couldn’t pilot, I decided to become a doctor. The people who treated me after I was hurt did a lot to heal me. More than duty called for.”

“They inspired you?”

“They did,” Shiro nodded. “What about you?”

“What do I do?”

Shiro nodded again.

“I’m in my last year at uni,” Lance said. “Marine biology. I want to work with the ocean.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” Shiro said, impressed. 

Lance gave him a bashful smile. “Thank you for helping me,” he said. “I’ve… probably been a pain, huh?”

“Of course not,” Shiro said. He found himself more interested in Lance than he thought he’d be. Something about him threatened to make Shiro’s instincts overwhelm him. 

He wanted Lance to feel safe. Especially around him.

“If there’s anything you need, I want you to tell me, alright? Anything at all. I’m here to help you,” Shiro said, squeezing Lance’s hand.

Lance’s cheeks coloured a little. He flashed a small smile. 

Shiro matched it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm already at one-hundred chapters again! I've been really busy at university this session, so I think I've been a bit slack with working on my other stories. Lots of these one-shots were quite short aha. But I'm almost finished one of my bachelors - the creative writing one - and because this is the last session for that bachelor, I've been working on manuscripts for class. Writing original stories take a lot more out of me than writing fanfictions do :') But I hope you enjoyed these hundred stories nevertheless!
> 
> As always, please feel free to tell me your favourites from this set! I really want to continue a few from the first two, but I'm still curious to see if any from this installation caught your interest, too ^^


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